<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Four Marks by Writers_Dilemma</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608598">Four Marks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Dilemma/pseuds/Writers_Dilemma'>Writers_Dilemma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Yennaia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:22:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Dilemma/pseuds/Writers_Dilemma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after Rinde, Yennefer is brought, mostly-dead, to Tissaia, having lost her powers. The two of them must work together to find out how to get Yennefer's magic back, and, along the way, they find that Destiny may be the only thing powerful enough to repair the damage of a botched wish.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>269</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apparently I can't get enough of this pairing, and my love of their angsty romance inspired me to start this. Please keep in mind that I am writing this as I go! With that in mind, I welcome story theories and plot suggestions! </p><p>Because I'm trash for these two, I made a playlist for them on Spotify. Feel free to use it to set a very 'Yennaia' mood. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6UbsGE0ANBMpu9mZxW8ftv?si=kifi6L8QRR2cwH8dlVg8UA</p><p>I don't own any of the rights or characters, and I created this for no profit</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Gorgeous cover art by xxtorchxx</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Aretuza’s halls were quiet in the dead of the night. The only sounds echoing through their cold confines were the cracks of lit sconces and braziers. The only waking soul at that hour was the Rectoress, still in her office, pipe smoke twisting around the stuffy room. Stacks of parchment were piled neatly on the large desk before her, and though she knew she still needed to sign and send several reports out, her quill sat lifelessly in its inkwell.</p>
<p>Her slender fingers slid around the Crest of Aretuza that never left her neck, feeling the subtle vibrations of the Chaos locked within the pendant. She bloomed her magic through the empty halls, focusing through the crest, checking that everything was still quiet and orderly. Her latest batch of girls were a bit more unruly than she liked, and Tissaia didn’t put it past any of them to be sneaking about the school at night.</p>
<p>A small, sad smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, reminding her of the one student who managed to leave an indelible mark upon her. A tired sigh escaped her lips. It had been three years since that short, but fraught, moment between her and the elven-blooded sorceress in Rinde. The young sorceress’ cold words and uncaring looks still haunted Tissaia.</p>
<p>The Rectoress rarely found sleep at a human time in all her many, many years as the head of the school, but ever since that day, she found her nights even longer and more sleepless than ever. She took a frustrated pull from her pipe, and wrinkled her nose at the charred taste hitting her tongue. The tobacco spent, she emptied the pipe’s contents into the glass dish on her desk. Sighing wearily, she resigned herself to finishing her reports.</p>
<p>Reaching for her quill, a sudden pull yanked at the base of her skull, and the medallion around her neck vibrated strongly. A burst of Chaos rippled from within the academy walls, and Tissaia was immediately on her feet. Using the pendant, she quickly sourced the location: the dining hall. When she burst through the doors, she was greeted to the sight of a hunched figure crouching over a large, lumpy object on the long table.</p>
<p>“Identify yourself!” Tissaia commanded, swiftly approaching the mysterious person.</p>
<p>The individual gasped, and whipped around, their hood dropping from their head. A decidedly-haggard looking Triss Merigold looked over. Both of them stared in shock at the other for a long moment, and then the young redhead gasped out, “Help!” She then turned back to the misshapen thing on the dining table.</p>
<p>Tissaia hurried over without question, and she let out a gasp when she saw what the lumpy thing was. Yennefer of Vengerberg’s body lay lifelessly on the rough, wooden surface. Tissaia, now much closer to Triss, could see just how pale the sorceress was underneath her freckles.</p>
<p>“Is she…?” Tissaia’s voice cracked.</p>
<p>“No,” Triss immediately reassured. “But she’s not well. I am a gifted healer; you know that, but whatever is wrong with Yenn is beyond even my skills. Your name was the last thing she said before she lost consciousness.”</p>
<p>“Is that when you brought her here?” The Rectoress probed, trying to hide the waver in her voice.</p>
<p>“I panicked,” the redhead said, shame coloring her cheeks.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you did,” Tissaia murmured, “It’s probably the only reason you were able to portal into here, which you normally shouldn’t have been able to. Come.” The Rectoress gently picked up the limp body in front of her, and began a march to the infirmary. Neither woman would let any of the healers examine Yennefer, and Tissaia ordered them out of the hospital wing altogether.</p>
<p>“Tissaia…Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Triss gripped one of Yennefer’s limp hands in her own, terror in her eyes.</p>
<p>“Shh…I need a moment of quiet,” Tissaia whispered softly. She bent over the cadaverous woman, placing her fingers on clammy temples. She breathed in deeply through her nose, closing her eyes in concentration. Only Yennefer’s shallow, ragged breaths sounded through the air.</p>
<p>“Triss, I need you to let go of Yennefer.”</p>
<p>“What? Why?” the young woman asked in confusion.</p>
<p>“Your Chaos is tainting my reading of her. Please, let go.” Tissaia looked over at Triss, and her face was soft, if tired. “I promise, this will help me to help her.”</p>
<p>Once the young sorceress had ceased contact with Yennefer, the Rectoress, once again, placed her fingertips to the unconscious woman’s temples. Closing her eyes, breathing deeply, Tissaia stretched a thread of her Chaos into the woman. She was immediately startled.</p>
<p>Her probing was met without resistance, something even an unconscious mage’s mind would have. Swallowing hard, she pushed deeper. The woman felt like an empty vessel, devoid of anything except for a bitter, sour taint that settled heavily at the back of Tissaia’s tongue. Her thread moved deeper still, to the heart of where Yennefer’s Chaos should be. It was terrifyingly empty. She could not feel even a spark of the woman who had been filled to the brim with nothing but Chaos since the day they met.</p>
<p>She pushed her magic around further, trying to find the source of the foulness. When she felt her strand of Chaos grow close to the tainted thing, her connection to Yennefer snapped violently. Hissing in pain, Tissaia yanked her hands to her chest, peering down at her fingers that had been touching the unconscious woman. Hot, red blood pooled at her fingertips; fresh cuts lacerated deep into her flesh.</p>
<p>“Tissaia? What’s wrong?” Triss asked hurriedly. Her brow creased when she saw the older woman’s bloodied fingers. “Gods above!” she breathed out in horror.</p>
<p>Tissaia fixed her mask in place, looking calmly over at the other sorceress. “Yennefer has lost her magic.” The lack of emotion in her voice was haunting to the redhead, but she didn’t much care for that at the moment. She scooped Yennefer’s hand up in her own again.</p>
<p>“<em>What? </em>How does that happen? I didn’t even know a mage <em>could</em> lose their magic.”</p>
<p>“Not by any natural means, no. Something has severed her tether to the Chaos of our realm. She’s not cursed, but…somehow, there’s something <em>wrong</em> in her.”</p>
<p>“Can you help her? Will she be okay?” Triss’ questions were whispers, her scared gaze fixated on the comatose mage.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, but I will do everything in my power to rectify whatever has been done to her.” She placed a hand, that she cursed for trembling, on the young woman’s shoulder. “First, we need her body healthy again. Prepare herbs for her fever. I will try to cleanse her tissues in the meantime.”</p>
<p>Nodding in agreement, Triss stood up without protest, and went to the alchemy bench at the end of the ward. Tissaia positioned Yennefer on her side, wincing at how deathly cold the woman’s body was. With a quick wave of her hand, she replaced Yennefer’s sweat-soaked clothes with a dry, linen dress.</p>
<p>She murmured a quiet apology to Yennefer for what she was about to do. Positioning her hands above the limp form, Tissaia started repeating an enchantment in Elder, allowing her Chaos to leech out of her fingers. She stretched thousands of tiny strands of her magic into Yennfer’s flesh, concentrating on scorching away and purging any impurities and infection lingering in her body. Yennefer’s once inert frame immediately convulsed, an involuntary, raspy groan of pain wrenched from her throat.</p>
<p>Tissaia had experienced that particular brand of healing magic only once in her life, and she ground her teeth together, remembering blinding the pain of it. She hoped to herself that Yennefer’s fever coma would prevent her from remembering the sensation of a million fiery needles slithering through her every blood vessel.</p>
<p>The catatonic sorceress began to cough and wheeze through her convulsions, and Tissaia stopped the flow of magic to hold the thrashing body on its side. Yennefer spat up a thick, black substance, and the same fluid also leaked from her nostrils, ears, and eyes. Her body’s seizing quickly subsided to erratic twitching, and her breath, still ragged, was even at last.</p>
<p>Sitting down beside her, Tissaia took a damp cloth, and started carefully wiping the black ooze from her face. She looked up at the sound of boots approaching. Triss had a large mortar in her hands, but she stopped abruptly when she saw Yennefer’s body.</p>
<p>“Gods, Tissaia! There are far less…<em>primitive</em> methods of cleansing! You could have killed her, putting her body through a trauma like that! Are you mad?” Triss glared at Tissaia, for once adopting an intimidating aura, rather than her normally-kindly demeanor.</p>
<p>“A cleansing like this is the fastest. She would have been more likely to die had we let her blood fester! Besides,” The Rectoress’ blue eyes rested upon Yennefer’s face, her expression suddenly soft. “She has endured far worse suffering. She would never let a cleansing be the thing to kill her.” She stroked the back of her fingers down a clammy cheek.</p>
<p>Triss narrowed her eyes, a huff of indignation escaping her nose. In no mood to argue, she returned her attention to her friend. She pinched a small wad of the herb mixture she had concocted, placing it under Yennefer’s tongue.</p>
<p>“She will need a new dose every hour for a whole day. We will check then to see if her fever breaks.” The young sorceress cupped her own hand on Yennefer’s face, softly whispering to her, “You better be as strong as Tissaia thinks you are. If you die, I will find you in the afterlife and murder you myself.” She smiled weakly down at her friend, leaning down to kiss her forehead lightly.</p>
<p>“Triss…you should get some rest. You’re no good to Yennefer half-alive.” Tissaia’s comment earned her a skeptical eyebrow raised in challenge. “I insist. I am almost never asleep at this hour; you needn’t worry about me drifting off. I will re-administer the poultice every hour, on the hour. You have my word.” She conjured an hourglass, turning it over.</p>
<p>Conceding to the Rectoress’ argument, the redheaded sorceress left the ward, muttering disapproving words under her breath. Tissaia, now alone with Yennefer, finally cracked. A single tear slid down her cheek, and then another. Before long, her bloodless face was streaked with glistening tears.</p>
<p>“You stupid girl,” she choked out. “What did you do?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it took me so long between updates. It's been a rough time for me. But, just so you lovely folks know, I already have the third chapter started! Enjoy!</p><p>Now with a title!</p><p>Quick shout out to my lovely wife and to xemilylhx for helping me find a direction with the story. It was a struggle!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Triss and Tissaia were sitting in Tissaia’s office, both women looking a little worse for wear. They each had a goblet of wine in hand, and the Rectoress puffed pensively on her pipe. Yennefer had survived the night, and Triss’ herb poultice had broken her fever. Since she had stabilized, it gave the two sorceresses a moment to breathe and collect themselves.</p><p>“Tell me, how did you find her?” Tissaia asked softly, her voice weary. The younger mage looked up, heaving a heavy sigh. She focused her gaze down at her wine again, finding the fresh memory of her encounter with the raven-haired woman.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Triss genuinely hated the stench of Novigrad. The brisk scent of ocean air was hobbled by the odors of sewage, animal shit, and fish ripening in the sun. Even worse, her mission for King Foltest had her stuck near the slums, where the still, midday air trapped all the stink washing in from the docks and the canals. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She was sitting in a filthy tavern, waiting for her contact to arrive. A pint of untouched ale sat in front of her, and she shot murderous looks at any patron who attempted to come near. Why her contact picked this particular shithole, she didn’t know. She busied herself imagining the ways she could make the bastard pay. Perhaps a pinch of powder in his ale that would have him shitting his brains out for the rest of the day would suffice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She jolted, hearing a loud commotion near the entrance. A man, overweight, dressed in tatty clothes, and covered in blood staggered into the dingey room. Everyone was quiet for a moment, but the silence soon passed as the unbothered patrons went back to their drinking and gambling. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Whiskey,” the man grunted at the bartender, after managing to stumble his way over. Without really understanding why she cared, Triss found herself walking toward him. He poured a few drops of the liquid on his wounds, which were still obscured by his clothes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m a healer,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Let me have a look.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve not got a copper to pay ye with, so fuck off wench!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The young sorceress very nearly did just that, but she couldn’t deny her need to help others. Her peers thought it made her soft, but she thought reckless compassion was a strength they would never understand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I wouldn’t take anything you touched anyway, so today is your lucky day. Come to my table and let me examine you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man grunted, his pain showing sharply on his grimy face. Triss, much to her displeasure, allowed the stranger to sling an arm around her shoulders, and she helped him hobble to where she had been sitting before. Without a thought, she slid her undrunk ale toward him, which he greedily downed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He removed his shirt, and Triss was greeted with several, long lacerations across his torso. “What happened,” she asked, focused instead on rummaging through her satchel. “Did you forget to pay your tab at the last inn?” She produced some clean rags, and a bottle of clear liquid. She doused the rags with the liquid, and started to clean the deepest of the cuts.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mhm,” Triss hummed in a bored tone. “Do you have a name, or should I call you Prince Charming?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mallus,” he huffed out, wincing through the pain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Some of these cuts are deep, but they’re sloppy. What happened?” she inquired again, and Triss thought she saw a nearly-imperceptible flush color his cheeks, but it was hard to tell from his blood loss. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Some half-crazed bitch tried to gut me! I didn’t do nothin’ to her. She came into the tavern where I were havin’ meself a nice pint, an’ she comes in, wild look in ‘er eyes, screamin’ a bunch o’ shite.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A madwoman comes in and starts yelling? How does that end with you like this?” Triss had finished cleaning the wounds, and she dug through her satchel for a poultice. </em>
</p><p><em>“Well, she were disturbin’ our peace, she were. So, I stood up, an’ I told her to fuck off. She were screamin’ about magic, an’ witches, an’ unnatural things. </em>She<em> were unnatural!” </em></p><p>
  <em>Triss was caught by his words, but she made sure to show no sign of it to Mallus. “Magic, huh? Seems a little odd. What made the woman ‘unnatural’ to you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She were dirtier than a pig in shite, an’ ‘er black hair stank o’ peculiar oils. She were dressed fancy, but it were all dirty an’ beat up too. But when she looked at us…” He shuddered involuntarily. “Them eyes she had. Purple they were. Didn’t need a freak like ‘er drawin’ unwanted attention. That’s when I got up to tell ‘er to piss off. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, she weren’t none too happy about that, an’ that’s when she pulled a knife on me. I s’pose ye can figure out the rest for yeself.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She sounds dangerous,” Triss said in a measured tone, but she hung onto his every word. “The tavern you were at…where is it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He told her about a place in the slums, close to the docks. Without a second thought, she got up and left. She hadn’t even finished tending the man’s wounds, and she didn’t care. His howls of rage followed her down the alley, but she quickly got out of earshot. By the time she arrived at the tavern – which was more of a shack, upon closer inspection – she knew she had found the right place. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Patrons were gathered outside; some fearful, others curious, along with an enraged barkeep, and several disgruntled whores. Triss could see the trail of blood - undoubtedly Mallus’ - mingling with the mud outside the entranceway. Ignoring the hushed whispers around her, she pushed through the crowd and entered the building. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She blinked several times, letting her eyes adjust to the dim interior. It was much too quiet for a place that supposedly housed a madwoman. She peered around the room, using her Chaos to try and sense the woman she knew should be there. Nothing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yenn…?” she called out cautiously, slowly stepping further into the room. The sound of shallow, ragged breathing pricked at her ears, and she followed it to behind the bar. Sitting in a crumpled heap was Yennefer of Vengerberg, disheveled and stinking of filth and despair. The woman’s head was lolled back, her mouth hanging open, trying to draw air into her lungs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rivulets of fever sweat ran down her skin, cutting through the grime layered on top of it. Her hand was wrapped limply around a dagger, and Triss could see blood drying on the blade. The person before her was a far cry from the haughty, powerful sorceress she had known before. The person before her was more than a mess; she was broken.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yenna! Gods, what has happened to you,” Triss gulped, crouching down to the slumped form before her. Tentatively, she reached out a hand to try and feel her friend’s pulse. The second she made contact, Yennefer snapped to attention, her hand slashing the dagger wildly toward the redhead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Triss conjured a shield to deflect the blows, and muttered a spell which turned the weapon into dust. Yennefer, not even caring what had just happened, lunged at the other woman, clawing and scratching at her like a beast with water sickness. </em>
</p><p><em>“You should let me die!” Yennefer spat out, but Triss wasn’t even sure if the woman was speaking directly to her. Delirium had clearly taken hold of her. “I wanted everything! I had power! And you fucking </em>stole<em> it from me!” She lashed out again, panting, her violet eyes darting around so quickly, it made Triss’ stomach turn. </em></p><p><em>“My magic could </em>break<em> you, you selfish fucking prick!” Yennefer’s screams were hoarse and weak, her movements slowing. She seemed to focus briefly on Triss’ face, a look of distraught panic washing over her frail, shaking figure. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Tissaia…” she whispered weakly. “Need Tissa-” Her eyes suddenly rolled back in her head, her body slumping forward into the redhead’s arms. Pale and trembling herself, Triss looked down in horror at the husk of a woman draped limply against her body. </em>
</p><hr/><p>“That’s when I portaled us here,” the young mage concluded. She swallowed hard, gritting her jaw to prevent tears from welling in her eyes.</p><p>“I am glad you did. It very likely saved her life.” For her part, Tissaia was the picture of calmness. The only signs of her distress was the tight skin around her eyes and the slight pout of her pale lips.</p><p>“Do you have any ideas as to how she lost her powers?” Triss asked.</p><p>“I tried to look into it in the spare moments we had not watching Yennefer, but I am afraid that little is known about such anomalies. I found an ancient text detailing the account of a sorcerer who was cursed with impotence by a scorned lover. Little did she know, it was impotence in the form of his magical abilities; however, lifting the curse solved the problem.</p><p>“But Triss, I need to tell you…” A line formed between her brows. “This is no curse. When I explored Yennefer’s condition with my own Chaos, I found something very wrong within her. I cannot explain any more than that. It was dark, and <em>angry.</em> Whatever this stain is, it’s hostile. It severed my connection to Yennefer so violently, that it physically injured me,” Tissaia said, holding up her fingertips, which still sported bright red cuts on them.</p><p>“What does this mean? For Yenn?” Triss had gone pale at the Rectoress’ account of her interaction with their ailed friend.</p><p>“I…” Tissaia sighed deeply, playing with the crest around her neck. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“Well…that’s not good.” Triss, restlessness overtaking her, tossed back the rest of her wine, setting the goblet down on Tissaia’s desk. “Look, we’re at a loss here, and right now, Yennefer needs rest. She’ll probably be out for several more days, at <em>least</em>. In the meantime, I think I know someone who might be able to help.”</p><p>The young woman’s words immediately commanded the full attention of the Rectoress. “Who? Is it another mage?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Triss said, smiling to herself. “He’s a witcher.” She waited for the older woman’s reaction to spill over.</p><p>“A <em>witcher</em>? Are you mad? What could one of those filthy creatures possibly help us with?” Tissaia spat out. She hadn’t even noticed that she had stood up from her chair, hands flat on her desk, staring down the other sorceress. Triss, for her part, remained unflinching under the heat of Tissaia’s murderous glare.</p><p>“Filthy; yes. But, Tissaia, even you must know that witchers are more than mere monster slayers. They understand the nuances of curses and magical influences in ways common folk can’t begin to comprehend.”</p><p>“I already told you that this is not-”</p><p>“A curse. I know. But you said that it felt similar to one. What if he can see something that we can’t? Besides, both Yennefer and I have crossed paths with this particular witcher. In my dealings with him, he has been honest and trustworthy.”</p><p>Tissaia sighed in a rare show of frustration, pinching her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “And what, pray tell, is this mutant’s name?”</p><p>“Geralt of Rivia,” Triss responded plainly.</p><p>“The White Wolf?” Tissaia looked surprised, but still cautious.</p><p>“I see even his pet bard’s ballads have reached these hallowed halls,” the young woman said with a smirk.</p><p>“If I am to let this Geralt into,” she shuddered at the words about to leave her mouth. “Into Aretuza, gods help me, it will have to be under the utmost discretion. Having a witcher here might just start a war of its own, and Stregobor would flay us all alive. Have you any idea where to find him?”</p><p>“I don’t, but it shouldn’t be hard to pick up his trail. Rumors always seethe through the places he leaves in his wake. Shouldn’t take me more than a few days,” Triss promised, her eyes hard with determination.</p><p>“When you find him, portal yourself close to Aretuza, but make sure where you land is completely out of sight. <em>Do not</em> land within a kilometer of this place, or your magic will not go undetected. Find me with your thought transference. I will have Yennefer moved to a private room, and I will open a portal for the two of you, directly into the room.”</p><p>“You can do that?” the redhead asked, with admiration.</p><p>“There are several perks that come with being Rectoress, Triss. I can open portals within these halls. Now go. Waste no time. And Triss,” she called softly to the retreating woman’s back. “Good luck.”</p><p>Triss gave Tissaia a small smile, and nodded her head, sweeping out of the office. Suddenly exhausted, Tissaia slumped back down into her chair. She felt a tight knot settle into her stomach at the thought of a witcher coming to her school, but she knew that Yennefer couldn’t afford for them to be squabbling over such scruples. Nothing was ever truly simple when it involved the violet-eyed sorceress, and Tissaia knew she was going to need several more glasses of wine to calm her roiling mind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did you like that? Let me know your theories on how Yennefer got the way she is &gt;:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Geralt makes a very poor first impression on Tissaia</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Another three days had slipped by, and Tissaia was perched delicately on the spindly, wooden chair next to Yennefer’s bed. As promised, she had been moved to a private chamber. The Rectoress peered down at the young woman’s almost lifeless body, focusing in on every single breath she drew.</p><p>Though Yennefer’s fever had broken, sweat still pebbled her forehead, and the older woman took a clean cloth and wetted it with cool water. She wiped down clammy skin with surprising tenderness, and a sad smile tugged lightly at the corner of her mouth. Tissaia could not remember a time when they had been in each other’s presence with this much silence shared between them. Their volatile relationship never allowed for quiet moments between them, and the Rectoress found that she much preferred Yennefer’s biting remarks to this deathly stillness.</p><p>Blue eyes moved carefully over the younger woman’s form, taking in her condition. Her normally-dusky skin was pale, stretched too tightly across her bones. The young woman had lost an unsettling amount of weight, which only made her death-like appearance all the more haunting. Her skeletal frame rose and fell with breaths that were still much too shallow for comfort. She had been cleaned, and her hair was no longer the matted mass that it was, but it lacked its regal luster it had from before. Everything about her, from her physical appearance to the energy she exuded seemed blunted.</p><p>Tissaia placed her hand on Yennefer’s chest, allowing her magic to seek out the young sorceress’ lifeforce. It felt dull, lacking its vibrant, magical pulse. She could taste foulness mingling with it and knew that the woman would need another cleansing. Tissaia thought to herself that she would allow Triss to undertake the spell, remembering the redhead’s deep disapproval of her method.</p><p>Pulling her hand away, Tissaia felt it move not to her side, but up to Yennefer’s gaunt face. Her fingers brushed a few damp strands of hair from her forehead, and she found herself wishing that the young woman’s eyes would open. She wished she could see their violet depths again and hear Yennefer scoff at her for caring. But how could she not care, she found herself thinking. No matter how many times the brash mage had pushed her away, Tissaia still found herself drawn into Yennefer’s maelstrom, like a moth to a flame.</p><p>She was pulled from her thoughts by a prickling sensation between her eyes that made her feel like she needed to sneeze. Recognizing the magical signature probing at her mental wards, she allowed the tendril of Chaos access.</p><p>
  <em>Tissaia, we are here.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Triss? I wasn’t expecting you for at least another two days. Do you have the Witcher?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes. And yes, I portaled us here, so he has no idea where we are on the continent. I blindfolded him for good measure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Unnecessary, but I like the touch. I shall open the portal for you. Leave the blindfold on for now. </em>
</p><p>Calling up a gateway within the room, Tissaia focused on where she sensed Triss’ magic, allowing them access. Nerves gripped her, and she cursed herself for them. She quickly uttered an incantation to muffle any sounds within the room, lest prying eyes and ears discover the presence of a mutant.</p><p>To her surprise, it was said mutant who materialized through the portal first, and he grumbled in a gravelly voice about how much he hated them. Triss appeared a second later, and the portal collapsed. The redhead lifted her hands, undoing the knot of the cloth covering the Witcher’s face. Yennefer’s bed was behind them, and so the foreign man had no inkling of his reason for being summoned.</p><p>It was then that Tissaia fully took in the man’s appearance. He was tall, and well-built. Handsome, except for his yellow cat eyes, which made her uneasy for a moment. His hair was white - which is where she ascertained his moniker came from - and tied back into a half ponytail.</p><p>His clothes were practical, if dirtier than she would normally allow within the walls of Aretuza. He wore dark trousers, tucked into sturdy boots, and a loose, cotton shirt. All were black, and the Rectoress could appreciate that. She sharply eyed the two swords slung over his shoulder, in a long, leather carrying satchel.</p><p>“Those won’t be necessary,” she said in a clipped tone, gesturing to the weapons.</p><p>The Witcher glared down at her, trying to gauge whether or not Tissaia was a danger. He stood well over a head above the woman, but she was so used to others having a height advantage that she more than made up for it with the unmitigated severity of authority that bled out of every inch of her rigid posture.</p><p>“I will be the judge of that,” he said without emotion. “Triss asked for my help, but she refused to say why. Cut the shit and get to the point. Why do two sorceresses of no small amount of power need me?”</p><p>Tissaia’s eyes narrowed, fixing him with a stony glare. Though she would never admit it, she did appreciate that he seemed to be direct. She knew that there would be no need for social graces or any beating around the bush. She sucked on her teeth, but silently motioned behind him.</p><p>He turned around and froze, then looked sharply back over his shoulder at the Rectoress. Triss had quietly moved over to where Yennefer lay, but her eyes were following every single interaction between Geralt and Tissaia, making sure neither attempted violence.</p><p>“Yenn…” he breathed, abandoning his threat assessment of the elder mage. He rushed over to Yennefer’s side, taking her hand in his. Tissaia bristled, watching him, feeling a hot flare of jealousy at how familiar he acted with Yennefer. He looked over the young woman, anger and confusion coloring his features.</p><p>“What happened to her? Who did this?” He looked between the two women, his feline eyes demanding answers.</p><p>“We don’t know,” Triss said softly. She cast a warning glance to Tissaia, silently begging her to let her guard down and allow the man to help. “I found her in Novigrad, delirious and half-dead, and then she slipped into this coma.”</p><p>“She has lost her magical abilities,” Tissaia added bluntly. She moved closer to the others, but her hawkish gaze never left Geralt.</p><p>“I didn’t know that was possible,” he mumbled to himself.</p><p>“Sadly, our research into this problem so far has yielded few results,” Triss said, her voice morose.</p><p>“She was brought here four days ago,” Tissaia informed him. “I attempted to seek out what was harming her with my own magic. I found a sort of presence within her – a stain, if you will. Not fully sentient, but it was hostile, and it certainly did not belong within her. I tried to get a feel for this presence, and it immediately lashed out, and forced me out of Yennefer. That’s how I knew we were not dealing with a curse or hex.” Reluctantly, Tissaia pulled a glove from her hand, and showed the Witcher the healing cuts on her fingertips. He peered carefully at them, and then back to Yennefer.</p><p>“We have never encountered anything like this,” Triss said. “I thought…perhaps you might have come across something in your travels that could do this to Yenn.”</p><p>“You said you felt something within her. A sentience of sorts?” he asked, turning his focus once more to the Rectoress. She nodded in the affirmative. “Are you sure she is not possessed?”</p><p>Tissaia scoffed loudly at his suggestion, venom leeching into her voice. “A <em>possession</em>? No simple possession could do <em>this</em> to a mage. Especially not one as powerful as Yennefer.”</p><p>“You don’t know if she wasn’t doing anything involving necromancy or summonings?” He thought back to their encounter in Rinde. “Last I knew, she was pretty desperate to find a cure to her infertility. I wouldn’t put it past Yenn to try something she shouldn’t have.”</p><p>“What do you know about that?” Tissaia asked, her frosty glare never breaking. She felt angry for some reason at how he called Yennefer by its shortened version, and she had to focus herself back to the task at hand. “Tell me about what you know about her attempts to cure herself?”</p><p>Geralt looked over to Triss, and she gave him a subtle nod, encouraging him to divulge what he knew. He started to recount his time spent in Rinde, seeking out a mysterious mage who could cure his magically-afflicted friend and bard, Jaskier. However, he was halted by Tissaia after he confessed Yennefer’s interest in their connection with a Djinn. The Rectoress moved closer to them.</p><p>“What did you say?” Her voice kept most of its usual temperament, but every inch of her was clearly hyper-fixated on every single word the Witcher spoke. She fixed Geralt with a stare so intense and focused, Triss thought that lightning might start arcing off the Rectoress at any moment.</p><p>“I said that Yenn tried to control the Djinn for herself, to use its power to restore her womb. She thought that Jaskier was the one with the wishes.”</p><p>“It was you.” Tissaia stated, rather than asked.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then what? What happened?” Unconsciously, the older woman continued to inch closer, the sheer austerity of her stance nothing short of controlled ferocity.</p><p>“The Djinn was too powerful for her while it was still bound to me. I still had my last wish left,” Geralt continued, undaunted by Tissaia’s slow prowling. “She told me I could wish for anything, and…” He clenched his jaw, his brow furrowing.</p><p>“By the gods, mutant, what did you wish for,” Tissaia spat, and she tried to force down a deep feeling of dread pooling in her gut. The man continued his silence.</p><p>“Geralt?” came Triss’ soft voice. “What was the wish?”</p><p>Apparently, the Witcher had more respect for the young mage than he did for the Rectoress. He let out a heavy sigh, averting his eyes for the first time since he had arrived. “I wished for our fates to be bound together.” He focused his cat eyes on Yennefer, and Triss swallowed hard, looking upon Tissaia for any inkling of what the elder mage was thinking.</p><p>“<em>What?</em>” The Archmistress’ single word was spoken with more hatred than either of the others had ever heard from another living person before. Every inch of her body emanated disgust and unbridled fury. Suddenly, Tissaia did not appear so small, and even Geralt seemed to be slightly alarmed by the woman’s aggressive shift.</p><p>“You <em>fucking mutant!</em>” Tissaia half-shrieked. “You meddled in her Destiny! Are you mad?”</p><p>“She told me to wish for anything,” Geralt tried in defense.</p><p>“So wish for a fucking apple! You useless excuse for a man! You fools are always thinking with your cocks! Never once do you consider what <em>your </em>actions do to the women you so desperately swoon over! Did you even stop <em>once</em> to think whether or not Yennefer would desire such a thing?!”</p><p>Angry tears had sprung to Tissaia’s eyes, and hostile energy gathered under her skin, and crackled all throughout the air. There was a strong wind swirling through the room, despite there being no windows, and everyone was on their feet.</p><p>“I didn’t have time to think!” Geralt shouted through the rushing gale twisting around them.</p><p>“Bullshit! You’ve been in battle enough times to know that you can think before acting. You acted selfishly, with no thought for this woman!”</p><p>“I saved her life,” Geralt bellowed back at her. It was the decidedly-wrong choice of words for him.</p><p>Tissaia’s fingers crooked sickeningly in a raw frenzy, the room now in magical uproar. As her fingers tightened in on each other, so too did an invisible grip around the Witcher’s throat. He gasped, and clawed uselessly at his jugular.</p><p>The only thing crashing around the Rectoress’ mind was a never-ending loop of rage at how many times Yennefer had tried to make her own choices and define her own life, only to have her future constantly dictated by others, Tissaia included.</p><p>Triss started screaming through the deafening wind at Tissaia, begging her to stop. When her pleading finally turned away from begging her to not harm the Witcher himself, to the potential harm Tissaia could be doing to Yennefer, the elder mage snapped to the present. A portal bloomed to life behind Geralt, and with a thrust of her magic, she forced him through.</p><p>The second the portal had collapsed, all of the magical turmoil around them ceased. Both women stood, frozen in place. Too many strands of hair had been wrested from Tissaia’s tight bun, and Triss looked as though she had just walked through a hurricane. Their panting was the only sound cutting through the silence, which now seemed louder than the chaos that had just erupted within the bedchamber.</p><p>Tissaia’s body sagged, and she swayed suddenly, before collapsing onto her hands and knees. Triss was at her side immediately. The Rectoress gulped in deep lungfuls of air, abruptly aware of how shaky and clammy she felt. She never intended to expend that level of Chaos, and she refused to meet the younger mage’s concerned gaze out of shame.</p><p>“By the gods, Tissaia…are you okay?” If Triss had, in any way, disapproved of the older woman’s actions, it didn’t show. She pulled one of the chairs off its side on the floor, and brought it over to the still-panting Rectoress.</p><p>“Don’t bother yourself with me, make sure Yennefer is okay,” Tissaia gritted out, and she clenched her hands together, humiliation flushing across her cheeks. Mercifully, the redhead did as she was told, and swiftly made her way over to the sleeping sorceress. A headache was building Tissaia’s her temples, and though she knew she could climb into the chair beside her, the cold, flagged-stone floor felt more grounding than anything else in that moment.</p><p>She had lost control. Control: that was the very first lesson that she taught to each and every one of her students. If ever she wished to be described in a single word, she would have liked it to be controlled. However, her actions over the last few minutes were anything but, and Tissaia felt grateful for the muffling spells she had placed around the chamber.</p><p>“Yennefer is okay,” came a relieved whisper. “Her bedsheets were a mess, but she’s fine.”</p><p>The Rectoress pursed her lips, and dipped her head down to the cool stone of the floor. She didn’t even care that she could feel flecks of dirt grinding into her pale, sweaty skin. She, of course, knew that Yennefer was unharmed. Even in the deepest state of powerlessness, Tissaia didn’t think she could ever allow herself to harm one of her girls, even unintentionally. Asking Triss to check on the woman was merely a ploy to buy her some time to gather herself. It wasn’t enough time.</p><p>“Tissaia…” She felt a warm hand placed lightly on her shoulder. “Are <em>you</em> okay?”</p><p>The older woman took a deep breath, and then slowly lifted her head from the floor. A wave of nausea washed over her, but she swallowed it down. “Yes, Triss, I am okay.”</p><p>“You have to tell me what just happened in here, because I am at a complete loss.”</p><p>“As it happens, I don’t have to tell you <em>anything</em>,” the Rectoress bit out, and she immediately regretted the nastiness of her tone. Steeling herself, she said in a softer voice, “I lost control.” She clenched her jaw tightly, still not meeting the younger mage’s eyes.</p><p>“That much is obvious, but <em>why? </em>What did Geralt do exactly?”</p><p>Tissaia finally looked up at Triss, with bloodshot, darkened eyes. “You really couldn’t figure it out?”</p><p>“I could hardly hear anything happening in here. All I could see was you two shouting at each other! Tell me, Tissaia! Please!”</p><p>“It’s <em>his</em> fault!” she hissed, feeling a fresh wave of nausea, but she didn’t think this one came from her magical exertion.</p><p>“What are you saying?” Triss looked taken aback, and confused. Her deep, amber eyes bored into Tissaia’s, as if hoping to extract the answers that way.</p><p>“Geralt,” she spat the name as if it were filthy word. “Is the reason Yennefer is without her powers. That ravening, callous mutant has left Yenna…” she swallowed hard, her focus now lingering on the dark-haired form laying on the bed, and tears traitorously pricked at her eyes again. She also realized it was the first time she had ever used that name for her former apprentice, and she was uneasy at how effortlessly it fell from her lips. Tissaia swallowed again, using it to collect herself, and Triss noticed her mentor’s cool, rigid exterior begin to take its rightful place once more.</p><p>The Rectoress finally stood from the hard floor, ignoring the way her head spun and ached as she did so. She tilted her chin up into its proud jut, fixing the young redhead with her hallmark icy stare.</p><p>“Well…now we know what plagues Yennefer. Or, at least, we know an important piece of the puzzle. However, the fact that this is caused by a Djinn disturbs me. We need information.” She reached out, placing her hand on Triss’ arm in, what she hoped, was a reassuring gesture.</p><p>“What can I do?” the young sorceress asked. Triss often looked welcoming, and approachable, but in the face of fierce determination, Tissaia couldn’t help but feel proud at how much of herself she saw shining through the young mage’s bright eyes.</p><p>“I will send missives to every library on the continent. In the meantime, I know you had business in Novigrad. You should go. Foltest does not like to be left waiting. But while you are there, go to Oxenfurt. Find <em>anything</em> they have on Djinns.” Tissaia paused, taking in the concerned look Triss directed over at their unconscious companion. A small smile tugged at her mouth.</p><p>“I will care for Yennefer. She will find no harm nor discomfort under my watch.”</p><p>“Are you sure? I can stay another day or two?”</p><p>“No!” Tissaia balked again, chastising herself for her harshness. “No, what Yennefer needs is for us to have as much information as we can. The gods only know what state she will be in when she wakes, and we are better off being as prepared as possible.”</p><p>The Rectoress’ expression softened considerably, and she lifted a hand to tuck an errant strand of red, wind-swept hair from Triss’ freckled face. She felt pride and warmth for her student, and she was glad that very little of her own hard mannerisms had rubbed off on the young healer during her tutelage.</p><p>“Yennefer is very lucky to have a friend in you. I have the utmost confidence in you, Triss. Now go. Once again, we’ve not got a moment to waste.” They shared another silent nod between each other, and then the young mage wordlessly slipped out of the chamber.</p><p>Once there was nothing but quiet lingering in the air, a new bout of exhaustion crashed over Tissaia. She pulled the chair without grace across the floor to Yennefer’s bedside. She slumped down into it, and rubbed her fingers over her eyes, willing the headache pounding her temples to cease. She had no such luck.</p><p>“You never make anything easy, do you?” she whispered. Her blue eyes traced over the younger woman’s features for what felt like the thousandth time within the last few days. She wasn’t sure if she had ever been <em>this</em> intimately aware of every line of Yennefer’s face before, and her fingers itched to reach out to it. As if to respect her privacy, Tissaia averted her eyes, but only briefly.</p><p>“I am sorry that I failed you, Yennefer. Back in Rinde…I tried. I thought you needed saving, and I was a fool to entertain such a notion. But a Djinn? I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that you would attempt such a silly thing.” She smiled to herself.</p><p>“There really wasn’t a single rule you did not try to break at every turn. I thought it made you weaker, acting so brashly, but…I was wrong. I didn’t see that it was you carving your mark on the world. On <em>your</em> terms.”</p><p>Tissaia hadn’t even been aware of it, but one of her hands cupped one of Yennefer’s, and she noticed her thumb stroking cold skin. Perhaps it was something about the raven-haired mage’s comatose state, but Tissaia de Vries found herself disarmed in a way that she had not felt in centuries. She had no intention of addressing this new revelation. Instead, she focused on tamping it down, and putting it somewhere she didn’t need to think of. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away, and chose to fidget idly with her pendant.</p><p>“Sometimes…” Her voice was no more than a whisper, and she gazed intently upon the younger woman. “Sometimes, a flower is more than a flower. The best thing you can do for me, is to <em>live</em>, piglet.”</p><p>“Don’t…ever…call me…that…” rasped a voice that sounded as though it came from a thousand miles away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what y'all wanna see in the next chapter, and I might just include it! Legit, I have no idea what I'm gonna do with the next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She's awake!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Also, giving another hefty shout out to my magnificent wife, who is my official beta at this point! This chapter was a nightmare for me to get started, with three different intros! Oof! And a shout out to xemilylhx for helping me get through a scene I was stuck on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dark, heavy eyelids fluttered open, revealing violet eyes groggily trying to come into focus. Yennefer took a heavy breath, but her body remained unmoving. She continued to slowly look around with only her eyes, until they began to focus in on a blurry form hovering above her. A few more blinks, and the figure sharpened into that of a woman, leaning low over her.</p><p>The woman had rather severe features, made all the more so by the deep worry etched into her gamine face. Piercing blue irises bored into hers, and she could see thin, pale lips moving – though, none of the words seemed to meet her ears. Wisps of chestnut hair framed the woman’s alabaster face, and Yennefer became acutely aware of the fact that this stranger’s hand was resting gently against her cheek. Even more disturbing: Yennefer realized that she had no idea who this person was.</p><p>Immediately overcome by panic, the raven-haired woman began to wildly swat away hands that were too familiar with her. She frantically twisted her body from the bed she was occupying, attempting to create as much distance between herself, and the older woman. Her legs gave out immediately, and she cried out when her knees crashed against cold stone. She crawled like an animal to the closest corner of the chamber, panting and breaking out into a cold sweat.</p><p>Yennefer turned to face the only other person in the room with her, drawing her knees up to her chest, blinking rapidly in a vain attempt to gain her bearings. The brunette had made no effort to come any closer to her, but it was only a small comfort to the younger woman. When she looked a little closer, it seemed that this other woman appeared almost as frightened as she was.</p><p>“Who…who are you,” Yennefer croaked out, her voice dry and weak. “W-where am I?” Her eyes flitted between the stranger and the only door in the small chamber. A dark crease formed between the impossibly-blue eyes of the other woman.</p><p>“Yennefer…You know who I am,” came the throaty response. “Tissaia de Vries. You are in Aretuza. Do you not remember?”</p><p>Yennefer did not respond. She stared at the older woman with terrified confusion whirling through her violet eyes. She was breathing heavily, bordering on hyperventilating. Sweat had fully drenched her skin, making her linen gown cling to her violently-trembling body.</p><p>Tissaia realized that she was in no way prepared for not only Yennefer’s sudden awakening, but for the horrified response that followed. The apparent amnesia added a heavy layer of complication to the situation. Her hand flew to her pendant, pushing her Chaos through it, in search of Triss’ presence. She breathed a small sigh of relief when she found the young mage had not left yet. She was in one of Aretuza’s many root cellars, likely gathering provisions for her journey.</p><p><em>Triss,</em> Tissaia beseeched across their mental bond. <em>She is awake. </em></p><p>
  <em>Gods, already? I’m on my way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hurry. She is panicked, and she doesn’t seem to know who I am or where she is.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stay put, say nothing, and just make sure she doesn’t try to leave the chamber. I will be there shortly. </em>
</p><p>The redhead was true to her words, knocking softly on the door. She was slightly breathless when slipping into the room, indicating that she had run the entire distance. Triss paused to take in the scene. Tissaia hovered nervously near the door, her hands clenched tightly in front of her. Yennefer was crouched in the far corner, arms wrapped around knees pulled up to her chin. She was muttering under her breath, her eyes dazed and unfocused.</p><p>“Tissaia,” the young woman whispered. “Is this how she has been since she woke?”</p><p>“Yes. She flung herself out of the bed, trying to get away from me. She asked me who I was and where she was. I don’t know, but maybe she will recognize you?”</p><p>“I will try, but don’t expect any miracles.”</p><p>Triss took a steadying breath, and then adopted a gentle smile. She started to cross the small bedchamber at a cautious pace, approaching as one would a wild animal. Yennefer seemed to be unaware of the woman’s approach, and she continued her raspy mumblings.</p><p>“Yenn?” Triss’ voice was delicate and warm, lacking any harshness to it. She flinched ever so slightly when Yennefer’s eyes snapped up to hers.</p><p>“Who are you? Wait…” The dark-haired woman squinted up at Triss, trying to latch onto a memory fluttering just out of reach. “I remember your face.”</p><p>“That’s right, Yenn. You know who I am.” Premature relief colored her voice, and a smile broke out across her face.</p><p>“I remember you from Novigrad! Who are you, what do you want from me? Where am I? Why am I being held here?” Yennefer’s voice rose more with each question, cracking with hoarseness.</p><p>Triss began to slowly back away, all the hopefulness she had felt a moment ago disappeared. She felt a small hand on her shoulder, knowing that Tissaia had come up behind her. She felt the Rectoress’ breath against her neck.</p><p>“Triss, is there anything you can do? Is there a potion to help her remember?”</p><p>The redheaded mage regarded their terrified charge, seeing that Yennefer had retreated back into herself and her mutterings. Triss turned around to meet Tissaia’s gaze.</p><p>“There are some potions, but those are all dangerous to brew, and even more toxic to ingest. They’re the sort of thing that’s a last resort, and more than that: they’re really only for magically-inflicted amnesia.</p><p>“I strongly suspect that Yenn’s been through so much trauma that this is the only way her mind can cope right now. She will only remember through either a trigger, or when she is finally ready to face what’s happened to her.”</p><p>“So, there is nothing?” Tissaia’s voice sounded despondent, and she looked sorrowfully upon Yennefer.</p><p>“There is no potion, nor tonic, nor poultice that can force her to come back to herself. But, there is something I can do to help her. I can make a potion for her that will make her more…amenable to her situation.”</p><p>“What do you mean by ‘amenable?’”</p><p>“It will put her to sleep again, but only for a couple of hours. When she wakes, she won’t feel a need to panic. Yennefer will be relaxed and able to focus more. It means that we should be able to talk to her, rationally.”</p><p>“How long will it take you to make? What should be done with her in the meantime?”</p><p>Triss casually spoke a few words of Elder, and Yennefer’s body slumped over onto the ground in another sleep. “We can’t risk her harming herself in any way right now. It’ll take me about three hours to make the potion. I will head to the alchemy lab immediately.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Amethyst eyes drifted open once more. Yennefer blinked slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was still in the same dim, windowless chamber, lit only by a couple of sconces, candles, and a fire crackling away in a small hearth. She was tucked into a bed, and she noted that she had been changed into a fresh linen dress, this one a pale green.</p><p>Her gaze was quickly met by the azure eyes of the older woman she remembered from before. There was a heavy silence hanging in the air. The brunette seemed to barely breathe, her body rigid with what looked like tense apprehension. Yennefer, on the other hand, very lightly smacked her lips, noting how bone dry her mouth was and the foul taste that lingered in it.</p><p>“Water,” she croaked out. The older woman wasted no time in hurrying over to a small table near the bed. On it was a shallow basin, a large pitcher of water, two clay goblets, a candle, and a neat pile of rags.</p><p>Yennefer eagerly took the water offered to her, relishing just how icy the liquid was. A single cup was hardly enough to slake her thirst, but questions were burning up her mind. She managed to prop herself up on her left elbow, looking back at the woman who hadn’t stopped staring at her once since she woke.</p><p>“Are you a healer?” Yennefer’s voice was slightly less hoarse.</p><p>“No,” the other woman responded. Her voice was low, and the answer was surprisingly terse.</p><p>“Who are you? Why are you watching over me? And, where am I? Am I in a dungeon? Am I still in Novigrad?” The questions fell from her lips, one on top of the other, and she felt uneasy at the way the woman was staring at her.</p><p>“I am Tissaia de Vries, Rectoress of Aretuza, which is where you are.” The words were spoken lightly, but Yennefer could hear expectation swimming under them. She realized that this woman had anticipated the answers to mean something to her. They did not.</p><p>“So…<em>not</em> in Novigrad. How did I get here? How long have I been in here?”</p><p>“You have been here for four days now. Almost five, to be exact. You were brought here by my friend and colleague-”</p><p>“That other woman? With the curly hair and the freckles?”</p><p>“Indeed. Her name is Triss Merigold, and she is the reason you are alive.”</p><p>“What? What does that mean? Where is-” Yennefer’s questioning was halted by Tissaia raising her hand from her lap.</p><p>“I understand that you are confused, Yennefer. I want to help you, but it will do you no good to be overwhelmed right now. Let’s, instead, start with what you <em>do</em> know. What do you remember?”</p><p>Yennefer slumped back onto the pillows, a sigh escaping her chest. She brought her hands up to her eyes, and scrubbed at them, as though that might call forth her memories. She looked again to Tissaia after releasing another sigh, this one more frustrated.</p><p>“I don’t know. I remember…I remember I was <em>looking</em> for something. Or, maybe someone? I remember…Fuck, it’s like I’m trying to find wisps of smoke in a heavy fog!”</p><p>“It’s okay, Yennefer. Don’t force it.” Tissaia’s words were gentle, and a sad sort of smile lingered on her pink lips. It wasn’t pity, but it didn’t sit well with the raven-haired woman either.</p><p>“I feel like I’m missing something,” Yennefer said, more to herself than to the Rectoress.</p><p>“You will find your memories again. Just have patience.”</p><p>“No,” Yennefer rebutted, shaking her head and staring at the ceiling. “I <em>feel</em> like something is missing <em>inside</em> of me.”</p><p>Tissaia swallowed hard. Apparently, Yennefer, even with her amnesia, could still sense her absent Chaos. The thought of what the younger woman must have been feeling in that moment made the brunette feel nauseous. Without thinking, Tissaia’s hand reached out, and lightly covered Yennefer’s. The younger woman did not pull away from the unexpected contact, but she fixed her violet eyes on blue ones, squinting, as though trying to discern something hidden in those cerulean depths.</p><p>“I know you, don’t I?” Yennefer’s question was cautious, guarded.</p><p>“Yes. You do know me.”</p><p>“And I am important to you?” The question was loaded, though neither woman knew it.</p><p>“Yes, Yennefer. You are very important to me.” Tissaia spoke the statement so softly, Yennefer thought she might not have heard it in the first place.</p><p>An idea formed in Yennefer’s mind, and she wasn’t sure where it even came from. To test the notion flitting about her brain, she brought her right hand over to her left, and traced two of her fingers over the back of Tissaia’s hand in feather-light lines. Her attention snapped to the subtle way the older woman’s breath hitched in her chest. The young woman’s eyes lingered on the way Tissaia’s slender throat bobbed when she swallowed hard. Her gaze then came to rest on lightly-parted lips, and she felt as though her new suspicion was confirmed.</p><p>“We were lovers, then?” Yennefer threw the query out casually, taking in Tissaia’s response.</p><p>The Rectoress was immediately startled, and she withdrew her hand from Yennefer’s as though she had been burned. Even in the dim light of the room, the young woman could see a deep flush rising up pale cheeks. Tissaia busied herself with smoothing out perceived wrinkles in her dress, and she nervously cleared her throat.</p><p>“What? Lovers? Where did you get such a notion? No, no we were never involved in <em>that</em> way. By the gods, that’s…well, I mean…no.” Tissaia’s cheeks burned hotly as she fumbled her response, and she cursed the way Yennefer arched a disbelieving brow at her. “<em>No.</em> We most certainly were <em>not</em> lovers,” she snapped.</p><p>“Fine, I’ll drop it.” Yennefer’s playfully-petulant tone was the most ‘Yennefer’ that she had sounded since she had dropped back into Tissaia’s life, and the Rectoress found herself drinking in the slight smirk that pulled at the young woman’s mouth. A seed of hope sprouted rebelliously within her chest.</p><p>“So, tell me, Tissaia de Vries, Rectoress of Aretuza, am I confined to this gloomy bedchamber, or am I allowed to walk about a bit?”</p><p>Tissaia quietly regarded the woman wrapped up in the bed. “I will leave that decision up to Triss. You’ve had infection in your blood, and your body has been subjected to two cleansings, one while you recently slept.</p><p>“She can assess your strength, and your fitness. If she deems you healthy enough to do so, you are not to leave this room without her to escort you. I don’t doubt your independence,” Tissaia cut in at the moody look Yennefer shot her. “Aretuza’s halls are full of prying eyes, and I would feel much better if Triss were at your side.”</p><p>“Okay,” Yennefer grumbled as she watched the older woman sweep out of the room. A minute later, the redhead she knew from Novigrad slipped quietly into the room. The dark-haired woman felt immediately more relaxed in her calming presence.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After a thorough physical examination, the healer deemed Yennefer fit to go for a walk. She would need to regain her strength somehow. The pair strode slowly through the winding, cold halls of Aretuza, and Yennefer remained quiet and conserved while Triss gently recounted the events of Yennefer’s fraught life to her.</p><p>The violet-eyed woman clung to every single one of Triss’ words, hoping that they would spark recognition within, yet she felt not even a flutter of familiarity. Frustration was beginning to settle into her chest, but also wonder at the world she belonged to.</p><p>After a long hour of strolling through torch-lit halls, and twisting staircases, Triss led them to a small, isolated balcony jutting out over the treacherous cliffs that the keep towered upon. The frigid blast of sea air against Yennefer’s skin momentarily pulled all of the breath from her lungs.</p><p>She became acutely aware of the fact that she knew within her very core that she loved the bright smells of the salty air, and the way the steely-grey mist – apparently omnipresent around Aretuza – kissed softly at her face. She leaned forward onto the railing, closing her eyes, and inhaling deeply. For the first time since she had woken up in this place, she didn’t feel trapped.</p><p>“I needed this,” Yennefer breathed out, eyes still shut.</p><p>“Mm, indeed. No person should live without clean air, and the vast of the heavens. I had a feeling this would make you feel better.”</p><p>“Thank you, Triss. Truly. I may not remember any of this, of my life here, but I don’t feel so cooped up anymore, at least.” The sincerity of Yennefer’s words caught the other woman by surprise. Amnesia had apparently done wonders for the fiery sorceress’ disposition, as Triss was not used to hearing such politeness from her friend.</p><p>“You’re welcome. How are you feeling? We walked for some time. Do you feel any weakness, or tremors in your muscles?”</p><p>“I feel a little shaky, but mostly, I’m still restless. Something is bothering me, though. That other woman who was caring for me, the one who runs the school…Tissaia…” Yennefer let the name rest on her tongue for a long moment, feeling a twinge deep in her mind when she thought back on her.</p><p>“You said she was my mentor – <em>our</em> mentor, but there’s more to it, isn’t there? She’s more than just a teacher, isn’t she?”</p><p>Yennefer fixed her gaze on her friend, and Triss was utterly disarmed by how open and uncertain those violet eyes were in that moment. Triss had only ever known the other woman to be guarded, prickly, and arrogant. She bit her lip, unable to find words to truly define the relationship that Yennefer shared with the Rectoress. The dark-haired woman took that gesture a different way.</p><p>“We really <em>were</em> lovers, then?”</p><p>Triss choked out a laugh, but quickly stifled it when she realized that her friend’s words were spoken honestly. “What? You and Tissaia?” The redhead shrewdly studied the other woman, and instead of shutting down the notion, she pursued her own curiosity instead.</p><p>“Where did that idea come from?”</p><p>“What? Are sorceresses not allowed to have relations with each other?”</p><p>“Well…it’s not encouraged, but it’s not forbidden either.” Triss leaned forward onto the railing, mimicking her companion. A sweet smile graced her full lips. “Sabrina Glevissig, she was in your class with you…She has been my partner for many years now. The Brotherhood is okay with it, so long as we remain impartial to each other on matters concerning the organization.”</p><p>Yennefer hummed to herself, indicating she had heard and accepted Triss’ statement. “So…?” she prompted to the redhead.</p><p>“You and Tissaia? You should ask her yourself,” Triss said evasively.</p><p>“I did,” Yennefer huffed out, and she caught the other woman stifling another giggle out of the corner of her eye. “What?” she said crossly.</p><p>“I just can’t imagine Tissaia’s reaction to you asking her that!” The healer chuckled to herself, trying to picture their mentor’s face.</p><p>“Yeah, well, she got all flustered and acted like us being a thing was some ridiculous idea.” Yennefer cast a woeful gaze out over the restless, grey sea. She frowned to herself, and picked absentmindedly at the sleeve of her dress.</p><p>“But…?” Triss prodded, sensing the confusion roiling through her friend.</p><p>“<em>But,</em>” Yennefer sighed out, setting her jaw defiantly. “It didn’t feel <em>honest</em>. There was something in her words, or maybe it was the way that she said them, but it felt like she was…Well, I don’t know if she was lying on purpose or what, but her denial was hiding something else. I can <em>feel</em> it!</p><p>“I wish I could just remember! I hate feeling uncertain and confused about everything!” Yennefer spun around, pressing her rear into the railing, and crossing her arms, looking for all the world like a pouting child.</p><p>“Don’t force it, Yenn,” came Triss’ soft voice. “It will come back to you. Trust me. You’ve beaten adversity into submission time and time again. You will come back to yourself when the time is right, and we will be there with you when you do.”</p><p>Yennefer felt the knot in her chest loosen a little at the conviction of her friend’s words. The feeling as though everything was familiar, but simultaneously unknown, was making her head ache and her stomach clench. Every time her thoughts drifted to the mysterious Rectoress – which they seemed to do every few minutes – she felt an itch at the back of her brain. It set her teeth on edge, and she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she explored whatever it was that her brain was trying to tell her.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>At Triss’ behest, Yennefer allowed herself to be led down to one of the classrooms on one of the lower levels. The redhead mused that perhaps by attending a lesson, one that they had both sat through during their studies at Aretuza, that it might trigger something in Yennefer’s memory.</p><p>Apprehension writhed through Yennefer’s gut, and she could feel her heart hammering in her throat. She had stupidly agreed to sit in on a magic lesson, and already she regretted the decision. She didn’t even have any magic, and she didn’t want to just sit there and feel like a dunce. Furthermore, something inside her was terrified of making a fool of herself in front of Tissaia. She anxiously wrung her hands together when Triss finally halted their journey in front of a plain, wooden door.</p><p>“The other girls will already be in there. Tissaia likes them to be present before her arrival. She will be along shortly.”</p><p>“You’re going to make me go in there alone?” Yennefer winced at the way her voice cracked, and she wondered privately if the haughty version of herself would have scoffed at the raw, open display of fear.</p><p>Triss turned and faced Yennefer, catching the raven-haired woman’s hands in her own. She squeezed them reassuringly, and gave her an open and genuine smile. “Many of us felt alone as students. Perhaps that feeling will help coax your memory back to life. Relax, and try not to get too frustrated. You can do this, Yenn. Remember, it’s less about the magic, and more about recovering your memory.”</p><p>Yennefer gave a tight nod, swallowing the lump of terror in her throat, and she grasped the iron handle of the door. With a grunt, she pulled it open, and she looked back over her shoulder one more time, hoping that the pleading look on her face would change Triss’ mind. It did not.</p><p>Eight pairs of eyes pivoted to her direction when she stepped through the door. Most of the girls visibly relaxed when they realized that she wasn’t the Rectoress, yet the calm was quickly replaced with confusion.</p><p>“Who are you? Where’s the Rectoress?” one of the girls piped up. She, like all the other students, was dressed in one of the dull, blue dresses that they were all made to wear. Her left hand was curled up near her chest, and Yennefer could see that the hand was twisted and shrunken, the fingers little more than fleshy nubs. There was boldness in the young girl’s eyes. The raven-haired woman gave a non-committal shrug, and told them that Tissaia would apparently be along in a few minutes.</p><p>She peered around the room for a moment. It was larger than she expected, but dim, like every other place in the keep apparently. The window slits allowed minimal daylight in, and the rest of the shadows were barely chased away by beeswax candles and a fire in a hearth.</p><p>All of the girls were seated on pillows that had been placed on the floor in two parallel lines. There was a large, velvet chaise lounge at the far end of the rows, and it was the only other seat in the room. Something told Yennefer that that seat was likely reserved for Tissaia. She shrunk into the shadows, nervously eyeing the other girls as they started to chat quietly amongst themselves.</p><p>Without warning, the door swung open, and silence gripped the chamber. The woman that purposefully, yet airily strode into the room was so very unlike the woman who had fretfully hovered by Yennefer’s side mere hours ago. She was the very picture of austerity.</p><p>Tissaia de Vries wore a strict, vermillion gown, pulled over a corset that held her back ramrod straight. Yennefer could hear the rustling of petticoats underneath the thick, ruffled skirt of the dress, and a rigid collar swooped around the height of her elegant neck. A thick, silver chain hung around the outside of the collar, its pendant resting at the very top of her breast. Her hair was pinned into a neat chignon, and her eyes were cold, sharp, and steely as she took in her students.</p><p>“Good evening, girls.” Tissaia’s voice was tight and apathetic, causing the other girls in the room to shrink under her presence.</p><p>“Good evening, Rectoress,” they all chorused back. Yennefer had noticed that each girl had repositioned herself from relaxed lounging, to sitting at attention. Their bodies all tensed as Tissaia languidly circled around them. Her blue eyes found Yennefer skulking in the shadows, and if she was surprised to see her there, she didn’t show it.</p><p>With a casual flick of her delicate fingers, two more plush pillows appeared on the floor. The Rectoress said nothing to Yennefer, nor did she indicate that the woman should move either. She continued her circling, speaking with purpose.</p><p>“Today shall be your first lesson in thought transference. Simple in Chaos, yet devilish in its practice. This skill has neither incantation, nor a casting to accompany it, and therein lies the true difficulty of this skill. It is the raw channeling of your magic.” The brunette came to a halt in front of the chaise, staring down at the two lines of students.</p><p>“Each row shall take turns in reading the thoughts of the girl opposite them. You are to find your partner’s worst fear.” Some of the girls winced, realizing how exposed this lesson could leave them.</p><p>“Thought transference starts at the eyes, for novices. It should flow through you, like learning to dance, or swim, or kiss.”</p><p>The words struck something within Yennefer, and she felt that itch at the back of her mind, only stronger. She bored her violet eyes into blue ones that weren’t meeting her probing look. She was hoping against hope that some sort of dam within her would burst, and familiarity would find its home in her again. Disappointingly, nothing happened.</p><p>“This is the only instruction I will give you: you must look, and look deeply. You must look until a window becomes a door.” She turned over an hourglass on a nearby table, and then she lifted her right hand slightly, indicating the row of girls before her. “This line shall begin. When the sands run out, you will switch.”</p><p>Tissaia did not settle herself on the chaise, like Yennefer thought she would. Instead, she silently drifted around the left row, making her way toward one of the unoccupied pillows. She sank gracefully down onto it, adjusting her skirts around her knees. Wordlessly, she gestured that Yennefer should take the other pillow.</p><p>Nervously, the younger woman knelt onto her pillow, and she suddenly found it hard to meet the brunette’s gaze. Biting her lip, she asked “So, uh, what am I supposed to do?”</p><p>“Read my mind,” the older woman responded plainly.</p><p>“I don’t have magic,” Yennefer whispered back.</p><p>“Search yourself for it. Perhaps you can stir more than just locked memories.” Tissaia’s voice had softened some, and she looked expectantly to her partner.</p><p>“You knew I was coming?”</p><p>Tissaia smirked almost imperceptibly. “Unlike these girls, Triss and I have long since mastered thought transference.”</p><p>“Right,” Yennefer flushed with embarrassment.</p><p>“Relax, Yennefer. Look into my eyes, and try to feel more than just what is in the physical.”</p><p>The young woman steeled herself with a short breath, and she looked fully into the Rectoress’ azure gaze. What she saw nearly made her look away again. Tissaia’s whole demeanor had subtly shifted. There was something completely unguarded about her open expression, and underneath all of it, sparks of what she thought might be affection swirled around in a maelstrom of emotion.</p><p>Yennefer had leaned so far forward, that she needed her fingertips to support her weight. Tissaia’s scent drifted up to her. Sandalwood and vanilla, and something rougher, more musky. Pipe smoke, Yennefer determined. Her head swam, and she knew, she just <em>knew</em> that there was something painfully, <em>intimately</em> familiar about her.</p><p>Something trembled in her mind – and her chest – drifting just beyond her reach. It was like having a word stuck on the tip of her tongue, only so much worse. Every attempt she made to grasp onto the different threads whirling around her head, caused them to dissipate like smoke twisting from a candle wick.</p><p>“I <em>know</em> you!” Yennefer breathed out, her face inches from Tissaia’s. “I can feel it in me, deep inside.”</p><p>“You remember?” Tissaia’s response tumbled out in a rush, an aura of hope in her eyes.</p><p>“No,” the younger woman conceded. “But I can feel it in my soul. I know you Tissaia, and I know that you mean something to me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I already know where I'm going with the next couple of chapters. They should have a nice mix of angst, with a little bit of fluff. Your comments are all so lovely, and your encouragement helps keep me going!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even a warm scone can't fix what Yennefer is about to endure.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this took so long! This is a beast of a chapter, and it's just shy of 7k! Big shout out again to my wife/beta, as she helped me figure out what the heck I was gonna do with this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next five days passed in a sort of blur for Yennefer. Her memories continued to elude her, despite the fact that she could feel them dancing just out of reach. Much of her time was spent with Triss, and Yennefer got the distinct feeling that Tissaia was avoiding her. Gone was the woman who openly reached out and touched Yennefer. Gone was the woman who hovered nearby, waiting on tenterhooks for any spark of recognition.</p><p>Instead, Tissaia was distant, mostly consuming herself with teaching her students, and burying herself in the texts and scrolls about Djinns that were arriving daily from libraries and scholars from across the Continent. When Yennefer was in the same room as the Rectoress, the older woman often refused to look her in the eye, opting only for sidelong glances. It only made the dark-haired woman hungrier for and more desperate to know the brunette’s feelings.</p><p>Triss, for her part, said nothing about Tissaia’s frosty demeanor or Yennefer’s open fascination with the woman. She did her best to distract her friend by continuing to try and jog her memory. She brought her to every room in Aretuza - well, except for Tissaia’s bed chambers - showing her to the room where Yennefer used to sleep when she was a student. The redhead was visibly disappointed when that particular spot did not do the trick.</p><p>Triss had even brought the young woman to Tor Lara, wondering if the shadowy, macabre chambers would unearth Yennefer’s memory of her romance with Istredd. When all avenues failed, the healer did her best to conceal her letdown, for Yennefer’s sake.</p><p>Not all was dead ends and frustration, though. The long and frequent walks she was taking with Triss helped her feel stronger and more invigorated, and, now that Yennefer was taking regular meals, she had begun to put on some more weight. She appeared far less gaunt, yet even the healthy look to her visage could not hide the haunted look churning in her amethyst eyes.</p><p>She paced around the room Tissaia had given her. It was one of the guest rooms reserved for visiting dignitaries, ambassadors, and royalty. The chamber was large, with high ceilings, and the cold, stone walls were draped with elaborate tapestries of deep burgundy, each depicting triumphant moments from the history of the Continent.</p><p>A large hearth was centered in the east wall, with a sitting table and velvet-covered chairs positioned around it. The four-poster bed was opposite the hearth, sitting along the western wall. Bookshelves peppered unoccupied places around the edges of the chamber, and a private bathing room lay hidden in the far west corner. The northern wall was broken by high, stained glass windows, covered with velvet drapes, and a balcony.</p><p>The opulence and comfort of the room made Yennefer feel unnerved, and she wondered why Tissaia hadn’t put her in a more standard bedchamber. She was hardly a noble, or honored guest, and she wondered most nights, while laying in her plush bed, if Tissaia was trying to tell her something.</p><p>She stalked over to the large armoire, and opened the heavy, ornately-carved cherry doors. Inside, hung many dresses that she was told belonged to her. She had not yet had the heart to put any one of the garments on, instead, opting to stare at them, trying to imagine the woman who would wear such raiment.</p><p>Looking at them all together, she garnered that she had an apparent distaste for garish colors. All of the dresses had dark, muted hues, if they weren’t outright black altogether. There was a lavishness to them, without being gaudy or excessive.</p><p>She ran her hands along a gray, fur-lined cloak. The fabric looked plain at first glance, but closer inspection revealed delicate, navy-blue fleur-de-lis - each surrounded by sweeping, leaf-like frames – stitched into the cloth. Yennefer pulled it out of the wardrobe, her eyes sweeping over it with a look akin to disdain, and she moved over to a polished mirror. After a long moment of hesitation, she swept the cloak around her shoulders, fastening it at her throat.</p><p>There was something deeply satisfying about the way that it enveloped her entire body, pooling around her feet, slightly too long for her height. She felt a little less distaste for the garment after taking in her appearance for a few moments longer. Yennefer stared fiercely at her reflection, willing, for the thousandth time, for something to bubble up to the surface. For even just one memory to make itself known to her.</p><p>She startled when someone knocked at the chamber door, and she hastily shed the cloak from her shoulders. When she went to see who had come calling, she was surprised to see one of the students nervously loitering in the hall. The girl could not stand still, and she barely met Yennefer’s eyes.</p><p>“Can I help you?” The question was meant to be simple and direct, but it came across as more curt than she had intended. The girl flinched.</p><p>“The Rectoress wishes to see you in her study,” the girl mumbled.</p><p>Yennefer frowned, looking over her shoulder, through the open balcony doors. The sun was barely a sliver on the horizon, sinking ever lower, leaving deep plum and crimson tones in its wake. Did Tissaia often take audiences so late in her office? And, why did she want to talk <em>now</em> after she has had so many days and opportunities to speak with her?</p><p>A knot clenched in her stomach. Had Tissaia finally found something in her research? Was she going to tell her that there was a cure for her memory? Or, what if she told her there was nothing to be done, and she would forever remain ignorant of her true self? Yennefer swallowed hard, trying not to give in to the dangerous swirl of doubts clouding her mind.</p><p>“Very well. Let her know I will be along shortly. Thank you,” she said, making sure her voice was far gentler than before. The girl gave a small, sloppy curtsy, and left without a word.</p><p>Yennefer approached the armoire again, with more purpose than she had had a few minutes prior. Her confusion surrounding her mysterious relationship with the mercurial Rectoress had not eased at all, and, in fact, it had only grown over the passing days. She knew that she needed to pry some sort of reaction from the other woman, and her eyes raked over all of the dresses.</p><p>She settled on the simplest, if not the subtlest, gown in the wardrobe. Taking in her appearance in the looking glass, even she could not deny her own beauty. Whoever she was before her amnesia, that woman had impeccable taste. Her only hope was that this visage she was about to present would do <em>something</em> to Tissaia.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The last vestiges of the day stained the darkening sky through the windows behind Tissaia. She sat at her desk, and sighed. The light had grown too dim for her to properly read the parchments scattered before her, and, with a casual flick of her wrist, every candle in the room danced to life. Her long, ivory pipe rested in her right hand, tiny coils of smoke twisting up from it.</p><p>She was not a woman prone to anxiety, but she could not pretend as though every single day, since Yennefer’s arrival, she had not felt a twisting, perturbed thing jumping around between her stomach and her throat. She knew she had been avoiding the younger woman ever since she had sat in on her lesson on thought transference. The intimacy between them in that moment continued to plague her dreams.</p><p>When she could not outright avoid being in Yennefer’s presence, Tissaia emotionally shut her out. Every prying look and curious glance thrown her way from violet eyes made her skin prickle and her palms sweat. And so, it was no wonder that she waited nervously for the woman to stride through the door.</p><p>She had sent for Yennefer once it had become clear that Triss’ attempts to trigger her memory were not hidden amongst Aretuza’s drafty halls. She knew that she needed to try something different, and, since the young woman’s strength had mostly returned, Tissaia knew she could weather a more arcane approach.</p><p>Tissaia let the tip of her pipe linger between her lips, puffing occasionally, and soaking in her own thoughts. She froze when the softest knock sounded through the chamber. She cleared her throat and schooled her features before calling Yennefer in. The polite gesture was a strange thing to her, seeing as how the young woman had never once knocked before barging into her office.</p><p>When Tissaia saw Yennefer enter, she knew her careful composure was demolished. Gone were the simple dresses that the dark-haired woman had chosen to wear around Aretuza; instead, she had donned a gown far from what would even be remotely necessary for a simple visit. Echoes of the brash, young mage thundered around the young woman, and the Rectoress cursed the way she knew she was staring.</p><p>Yards of black silk draped over Yennefer’s slender frame, and hung like liquid tar from her body, pooling into a small but dramatic train at her feet. Loose half-sleeves fluttered languidly around her upper arms, and iridescent, black feathers jutted out from the tips of her shoulders. Small shards of amethyst beaded-glass adorned the revealing neckline and shoulders of the dress, as well as encircling her waist – dropping to a delicate point just below the center of her navel – as if her hips had their own tiara. The accented color made her eyes stand out like resplendent crystals sparkling from a darkly-brooding face.</p><p>Tissaia was frozen, and she realized that Yennefer made no attempt to move to one of the empty chairs in front of the desk. She stood proudly, knowing she was a vision, with her chin jutted out in her signature, cocky way. If the Rectoress had not seen the uncertainty skulking behind the younger woman’s façade, she would have thought that Yennefer had finally remembered who she was.</p><p>Tissaia forced herself to break from the stupor the other woman had effortlessly put her in, and she delicately cleared her throat. “Yennefer. Thank you for coming. Please, sit.” She motioned to the chairs, grateful that her hands did not betray the trembling in her body.</p><p>Yennefer nodded and moved to seat herself, but she never stopped scrutinizing the brunette for any sign of a reaction. “I was surprised to receive your summons. Especially so late in the evening.” Yennefer’s eyes seemed darker, and there was a look to them that made Tissaia briefly bite her lip before regaining her composure.</p><p>“I apologize for interrupting your evening, but I thought we should talk. I have noticed that you spend much of your time with Triss,” the Rectoress said casually, and she stood to pour wine from a crystal decanter into two glasses, handing one to Yennefer.</p><p>“This is…exquisite,” the younger woman remarked after tasting the wine.</p><p>“Indeed. Erveluce, and a particularly fine vintage from Toussaint, at that.” Tissaia then hummed to herself after taking a delicate sip.</p><p>“I get the feeling that you don’t give this to just anyone who strolls into your study. But then again,” Yennefer said in a slightly throatier voice, “Inviting me here at dusk and giving me fine wine…I am glad I dressed for the occasion.” The look in her eyes could only be described as hunger.</p><p>Tissaia’s stomach dropped. The younger woman was smirking at her over the rim of her glass, and the brunette felt her hands turn sweaty again. She unconsciously began to fidget with the heavy pendant at her breast. Was Yennefer <em>flirting</em> with her? Tissaia aggressively shoved that thought away, because Yennefer of Vengerberg was nothing if not openly hostile with her. The young woman ought to have no desire to <em>flirt</em> with someone she reviled in no uncertain terms.</p><p>And yet, a nasty doubt sprung up in her mind. The woman seated at her desk, all dark eyes and pouty lips, was not the woman who had cut her down three years ago in Rinde with the deadly precision of a viper. No, this was a woman without all of the baggage and resentment that she normally carried with her. Couldn’t it be possible that this Yennefer was attracted to- Tissaia mentally lit that thought process on fire.</p><p>Whether or not it was true was irrelevant. Whoever was sitting in front of her was someone who would no longer exist soon. In fact, the sooner that that happened, the sooner she could move away from thoughts that had begun to trouble her in every quiet moment of late.</p><p>“If this hour is inconvenient, we can speak tomorrow morning instead,” Tissaia said, not giving an inch to whatever reaction Yennefer was trying to provoke. To her relief, the younger woman’s cocky front fell away, disappointment taking its place.</p><p>“No, this is fine. What did you need to talk about?”</p><p>“Well, it has become apparent that simply lurking around this place is not uncovering your memories. I believe that if we can unlock your magic, then perhaps we can unlock your memory.”</p><p>“I’ve sat in on your magic lessons, Tissaia. I don’t know if it’s possible to get my magic back.”</p><p>“That was more to help jog your memory. Those lessons are for those of us who can actively channel their Chaos. You, on the other hand, cannot right now. I would like to try a more…direct approach.”</p><p>“Direct how,” Yennefer asked, shifting a little in her seat.</p><p>“I would like to try to experiment with giving you Chaos. Perhaps if your body gets a taste of it again, it will remember how to access it on your own. Mind you, this is just a theory.”</p><p>“I’ll do it.”</p><p>“Yennefer, wait. Don’t rush to agree. It will not be pleasant, and I would only attempt such a thing with you so long as I have your explicit consent.”</p><p>“You have it. You can do anything to me if it makes me remember.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Tissaia, do you have any idea how maddening it is to exist in a mind that has everything and nothing in it at the same time? I don’t care how painful it is…I just want to know who I am again.”</p><p>A memory of the enchantment room, where all ascended mages got to remake themselves, swam up to the surface of Tissaia’s mind. She could still recall the stench of the blood that stained the stones. It was smeared about from where Yennefer had been writhing upon the ground, enduring the world’s most painful rebirth. Yes, Yennefer had proven time and again that she would bear all of the pain of the universe if it meant that she would never have to feel trapped again. Apparently, no amount of amnesia could quell that particular fire within her, and then Tissaia was shaken from her reverie by the other woman’s voice.</p><p>“Also…I trust you.” The words may have been quiet, but they were firm. Tissaia knew that there was no lie in them, and she wondered if she would ever hear her say those words again.</p><p>“Very well. I suggest that you get some sleep. We will begin tomorrow morning, and you will need your strength. Good night.”</p><p>The dismissal was abrupt, but the brunette knew that she needed space from the young woman. Nothing about this visit had gone quite as she had planned, and it occurred to her that that was why she had been shunning Yennefer for the last week. Every time she interacted with her, the violet-eyed woman left her feeling rawer and more exposed than ever before. She shuddered at the thought of someone seeing this and exploiting it. Yennefer, with a sullen expression, left without finishing her wine.</p><p>Tissaia had to regain her composure, but every thought of that dress, and the woman in it, rendered every attempt of hers to do so useless. Tissaia finished the last of her wine, and, more than once throughout the evening, she had to fight off wondering how it would taste on Yennefer’s lips.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yennefer paced back and forth across her lofty bedchamber. Dawn was only just beginning to break, and already, she was wide awake. Tissaia didn’t exactly say how early in the morning they were supposed to begin, but she had a pretty good feeling that the older woman was still fast asleep in her own bed.</p><p>The next couple of hours passed at an achingly-slow pace for Yennefer, and her own jitters left her feeling queasy. She had no idea what to expect of the day, other than the likelihood that it was going to be deeply unpleasant for her. She had meant what she said when she told Tissaia that she trusted her, but that did nothing to ease her own fears of the unknown.</p><p>Before Yennefer could throw herself down a thought spiral of doubts and uncertainties, a gentle knock sounded on her door. She halted for a moment, terrified that it was time, before she shook herself and walked to the door. Much to her surprise and relief, Triss was the one beaming up at her. Only that woman could be so bright and perky that early in the day.</p><p>“I had a feeling you couldn’t sleep,” the redhead said apologetically. “I brought scones!” She held up a small basket with a cloth draped over it. Yennefer moved aside, and the other woman walked in, pausing to take in the room.</p><p>“Oh, wow. You know, Tissaia didn’t even give me a room this nice, and <em>I’m</em> the one who saved your life.” She looked over her shoulder, offering up a playfully-knowing smile to Yennefer.</p><p>“Would you like to swap? This is a bit much for me…What?” she pouted when Triss snorted at her statement.</p><p>“I’m sorry! I’m just pretty sure that the old you would’ve thought that this counted as shabby!”</p><p>“Yeah, well…the old me sounds like a bitch.” Saying the words felt like a release to Yennefer. After hearing all of Triss’ tales of her former self, and her attitudes and views, the woman sounded thoroughly unlikable. Not that Triss was in any way unflattering, but even her compliments could not hide the nature of who Yennefer supposedly was.</p><p>She slumped down into one of the chairs at the little tea table by the hearth, inviting the other woman to follow suit. She watched the redhead with the eyes of a hawk, wondering how she would react to her assessment of her former self. She was not expecting a giggle.</p><p>“You’re not wrong, Yenn. But that’s the thing about people, isn’t it? We’re all flawed in our own ways, but it doesn’t make us unlovable. It just means that we still have room to grow. Now, eat at least one scone, before they get cold!”</p><p>“I take it you know what’s going to happen today,” Yennefer asked around a mouthful of scone. “Gods, these are so good.”</p><p>“Fresh scones are the best scones. And yes, I know what we are trying today. How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Nervous,” Yennefer admitted. “What’s it going to feel like? Tissaia said it wouldn’t feel good.”</p><p>Triss’ expression became much more serious than it had been, and she wouldn’t meet Yennefer’s eyes. “Tissaia was right. It’s not a common thing, to bleed one’s own Chaos into another mage, but we are all made to go through it just once during our studies…just so we know what it feels like.”</p><p>“And…?”</p><p>“Well…it’s hard to describe properly. It’s like you’re drowning, but on air and not water. Or like you have an empty bladder under your ribs that just keeps on blowing up and up and up. And, there’s a constant prickling under all of your skin, and you feel like you’re going blind from all of the tears flowing from them.” Triss’ voice was a small whisper, and some of the color had drained from her face.</p><p>Yennefer could not say the same of herself. She had paled completely, her mouth agape. Panic was rising in her chest, and every last one of her nerves seemed to be quivering with apprehension. The remains of her scone were pinched between her fingers, almost to the point of crumbling. She swallowed, and did her best to put on a brave face.</p><p>“Is that all?” Yennefer tried to sound self-assured, but the cracks in her voice betrayed her.</p><p>“Yennefer,” Triss said, her voice like warm, soothing honey once more, “You can do this. I know it!”</p><p>“I hope so, because I’m not-” The rest of her words died in her throat when she saw the door swing open from the corner of her eye. Tissaia stood in the doorway, silent, eyes tight.</p><p>“Tissaia,” Triss greeted, twisting around in her chair. “Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“No, but it doesn’t matter now.” Her voice was just as strained as her features, and her posture was even more severe than usual. Yennefer wondered to herself if she was the reason the Rectoress was restless last night. She shook the intrusive little thought away, convincing herself that a dress and a single innuendo would not be enough to disturb Tissaia’s sleep.</p><p>“Yennefer,” the brunette said tersely. “You look like you’re going to be sick. Are you up for this?” She strode into the chamber, coming to stand by the other two women.</p><p>“Yes, I’m just nervous. Triss was just trying to tell me how it would feel, before you came in.”</p><p>“I told you not to tell her!” Tissaia hissed at the redhead.</p><p>“She deserved to know. It would be more of a shock to her body to <em>not</em> anticipate the sensations.”</p><p>“Well then, I am overruled, and the damage is done. Yennefer, do you remember what I said last night?”</p><p>“That I can stop this if it’s too much.”</p><p>“Yes. Bring your chair to the center of the room when you are ready, and then we can begin.”</p><p>Yennefer looked at Triss, hoping that the woman could somehow save her from whatever was going to happen. When she realized that there was no rescue coming, she resigned herself to slowly dragging the chair away from the table to where Tissaia stood. The brunette still would not meet her eyes until she had stopped awkwardly opposite her.</p><p>“I’m going to have to ask you to open the top of your bodice, please. Just enough to show your collarbones.”</p><p>“What?” Yennefer squeaked.</p><p>“I will need to place my fingertips just below your collarbones. It will allow my magic to enter your body more easily,” Tissaia clarified.</p><p>Yennefer nodded nervously, and reluctantly, she sank into the chair, loosening her top. With trembling fingers, she pulled aside the fabric, shuddering as the cool air hit her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, and she clenched her hands so tight that her nails bit into her palms.</p><p>Yennefer could hear Tissaia position herself behind her, and the tension in the chamber seemed to crackle with electricity. The brunette’s fingertips were much warmer than Yennefer thought they would be, considering how icy the brunette seemed.</p><p>“Are you ready?” Tissaia’s voice was surprisingly gentle and soothing, a far cry from how stern she sounded mere moments ago.</p><p>Unable to speak, Yennefer nodded again. There was a long pause, and it felt as though it stretched on for an interminable amount of time. Then, there was sensation. Fire rushed under every centimeter of her skin, scorching every nerve with white-hot pain until her vision blanched and then blackened. Yennefer felt as though something was pushing its way into her abdomen, aggressively forcing all of her organs out of the way, so that a terrible force made of bitter ice and agony could twist and jab at her from the inside out.</p><p>Immediately, she was hunched over, the contents of her stomach pooling in a hot puddle of sick at her feet. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with heavy beads of sweat. All of the hairs on her skin stood at attention, goosebumps supporting them. She coughed violently, her body still trying to heave anything it could from her now empty stomach.</p><p>Tissaia was crouched at her side, her face a taught mask of worry and regret. She cupped Yennefer’s face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs soothingly over hot, clammy skin. Yennefer trembled under the touch, and she forced herself to focus on the older woman.</p><p>“I am so sorry,” the Rectoress murmured. “I should have known that would be too much. I had hoped that your body would still be attuned to the feeling of Chaos, and I am sorry that I gave you such a large dose.”</p><p>“What the hell was that? Gods,” Yennefer gasped out. “Is that how you feel all the time?” Her violet eyes darted between the other two women.</p><p>Triss had joined them, a large tankard of water in hand. Delicately, she held it out to Yennefer, who, upon realizing what it was, ravenously gulped down every last drop. Her body still violently shuddered, and she had not yet caught her breath, but the feelings of queasiness and internal assault had since abated.</p><p>“No,” Tissaia answered. “You don’t feel your own Chaos, as it is a part of you. That is what it feels like to have another mage’s Chaos try to bond with you. Do you still feel it inside of you?” Triss was the only one who noticed that Tissaia’s hands were clutched tightly around one of Yennefer’s.</p><p>“You mean that horridly-painful, freezing, jagged thing that stabbed at my insides? No, thankfully. It’s gone.” When the young woman saw the exchange of crestfallen looks between the other two, she prompted, “What? What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Perhaps, it was simply too large of a dose. You should have been able to still feel my Chaos lingering in you, binding with your tissues. Triss,” Tissaia said, addressing the healer. “We could try a smaller trickle. My own reserves are hardly depleted, and that will make it harder for me to throttle the flow. Do you think you would have a better chance?”</p><p>“Yes, but I think we’re forgetting something first,” she responded, her eyes poignantly drifting over to the dark-haired woman. Yennefer was still panting lightly, and droplets of sweat fell freely from the point of her chin and nose.</p><p>“Yes. Yennefer…Do you feel able to try again?”</p><p>Though her face seemed to turn a light shade of green, Yennefer gritted her jaw, and nodded in open determination. The intensity of the pain had caused a twinge within her mind, and she could feel deep down that she had suffered a terribly similar pain in her past. She desperately hoped that just maybe a little more of this could crack her memory open.</p><p>It was Triss’ turn to take up position behind Yennefer, and the violet-eyed woman expected Tissaia to move away from her. Much to her surprise, the Rectoress remained crouched at her side, refusing to release her hand. Blue eyes bored into her own, and she was swept up in the fierce assurance flashing in them, telling her, <em>You can do this. I’ve got you, and nothing can truly harm you so long as I am here.</em></p><p>Taking in a deep gulp of air, Yennefer told Triss that she was ready. She flinched when she felt tentative fingertips snake down to her collarbones. Another excruciating moment slipped by, and then she felt the redhead stiffen behind her.</p><p>Fire flooded every nerve and muscle again, yet it was on a level that was just short of intolerable. Tears freely flowed from her eyes again, and sweat beaded up all over her body once more. Yennefer felt as though there was an icy-hot snake coiling in her belly, striking, trying to find purchase within her.</p><p>She arched her back out, choking back grunt after grunt of pain, panting in her effort to control her body. Her ears were ringing so loudly that if anyone had said anything, she would have never known. Every time the viper struck at her innards, she could feel it dissipate, only to be replaced by another one.</p><p>“Stop!” She gasped out, hunching forward to tear her body from Triss’ hands. “Stop…please,” she whimpered, even though the magical connection had already been severed. Her quaking body was immediately wracked with heavy, unbidden sobs, and Yennefer wrapped her arms tightly around herself. The pain, the discomfort, all of it, had not worked to shake her memory, and despair was settling heavily in her chest.</p><p>The ringing lingered in her ears, and she kept her eyes shut, so she could not tell what the other two were doing or saying. She then became aware of a hand cautiously coming to rest on her back. She did not flinch or shy away at the touch.</p><p>When Yennefer finally opened her eyes, Tissaia was crouched low in front of her, and a glance downward showed that her puddle of sick from before had disappeared. The older woman silently searched her eyes with alarming intensity, as if hoping that, if she looked hard enough, she could divine all of the answers from Yennefer’s amethyst gaze.</p><p>With sweat, and tears, and raw shock seeping down her body, Yennefer was gripped by the sudden realization that the only thing she wanted in that moment was to lean forward and capture the brunette’s fair lips in a desperate kiss. The feeling was borne more of her overloaded senses, and a desire to somehow purge every last thread of taut tension that had compounded inside of her, than any actual feelings of desire. Or, maybe she just needed to throw up instead.</p><p>“What now?”  she croaked out, breaking the heavy moment lingering between them.</p><p>Tissaia’s gaze broke from the younger woman, and she stared up at Triss. “What did you feel?”</p><p>The redhead sighed in frustration. “It’s absolutely confounding. Sending my Chaos into Yennefer was like a drop of water hitting a hot skillet, evaporating it immediately. It is like she actively <em>repels</em> magic. Or more like,” she hesitated, trying to find the words. “It’s like there is something <em>else</em> inside of her that destroys any magic that dares take up place within her.”</p><p>Something clicked in the Rectoress’ mind. She thought back to the night Yennefer was brought to Aretuza, to the story the Witcher had recounted, to the hostile presence lurking within Yennefer. “Could it be the Djinn?” she ventured.</p><p> All of the air seemed to leave the room when Tissaia uttered those words. Triss’ face grew pale, and Yennefer looked between them with a deepening frown on her damp face.</p><p>“How would we know it’s the Djinn for sure?” Triss queried.</p><p>“We would need to confront it within Yennefer, but only with your permission, of course,” Tissaia said, looking hard at the dark-haired woman again.</p><p>“Would that hurt too?” Yennefer hated the tremble in her voice.</p><p>“Not at all. It feels like pressure behind your eyes, and a pinch at the base of your skull. Nothing like what you just experienced. However, I do not think I should be the one to do it.”</p><p>“What? Why not?” Triss objected. “You have the most experience of anyone on the Continent!”</p><p>“Triss, the very night that you brought Yennefer here, I attempted to discern what was causing her ailments. I encountered the very presence you felt within her, and when I tried to determine its nature, it broke the connection so violently that it lacerated my fingers. Do you remember?”</p><p>“Gods,” Triss breathed out in horror.</p><p>“If I were to try and confront it again, it might recognize my Chaos and completely close itself off. Whatever it is, Triss, it is <em>angry.</em> Djinns are not to be trifled with, and it will require a very delicate approach.” She then focused her azure eyes on Yennefer again. “But only if you consent to this.”</p><p>“If it means finding answers,” the younger woman said, squaring her shoulders, “Then, I’m in. Whenever you’re ready, Triss.”</p><p>The redhead took a moment to ground herself, once again moving to stand at Yennefer’s back. She delicately placed the first two fingertips from both of her hands to the other woman’s temples. Taking a deep breath, she allowed the faintest strand of magic to wind its way into Yennefer’s unguarded mind.</p><p>To Yennefer’s intense relief, the sensation was exactly as Tissaia had described, and, after everything she had gone through that morning, it was almost blissful to feel the slight discomfort washing around her head.</p><p>“I’ve found it,” Triss murmured, focusing on maintaining her connection and keeping her eyes firmly shut. “You were right, Tissaia. Whatever this thing is, it’s not from our realm. It must be the Djinn…it feels…”</p><p>Several more moments passed, and though Yennefer could not see what was happening behind her, Tissaia studied every expression that flashed across the healer’s freckled face. Whatever she was experiencing, it was not a positive encounter.</p><p>Without warning, Triss withdrew her hands and stumbled over to the hearth. She leaned against the mantle on her forearm, pressing her head against it, breathing heavily. The other two women were immediately at her side, and when Triss finally looked up, tears were glistening in her eyes.</p><p>“Shit, what’s wrong,” Yennefer said. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Yennefer…I am <em>loath</em> to ask this of you, but we need to do a summoning.”</p><p>The alarmed look on Tissaia’s face made Yennefer’s stomach twist with dread. “W-what does that mean? Why do you two look like a wyvern just crashed into the room?”</p><p>“The Djinn…it, well, it <em>literally</em> broke off a piece of itself, and bound it to <em>you</em>, Yenn. I think it’s blocking your magic.”</p><p>“By the gods,” Tissaia spat, barely-contained fury boiling within her.</p><p>“Yenn, I tried to communicate with it, but it’s such a small fragment, that I could only get impressions of feelings it was trying to convey. What I am suggesting that we try…it <em>will</em> be hell.”</p><p>“What does that mean? Why will the summoning be so awful?”</p><p>“She means to use you as a vessel, a voice box,” the Rectoress said coldly. The vicious wrath in her gaze could have stopped an army in its tracks, and Triss winced under it. “She essentially wants to use the Djinn’s mark as a homing point for the Djinn itself, and bind it, as if you were possessed by it, so that it may speak through you. It is a <em>barbaric</em> thing to do, and we have <em>no</em> right to ask that of you, Yennefer. We will simply have to find another way.”</p><p>“There is no other way, Tissaia! The Djinn? It’s gone. It’s not even in this realm anymore. I hate myself for asking this, and you know I would never suggest this lightly, but this is the only way we can commune with it.”</p><p>Tissaia huffed angrily, and there seemed to be a light gust moving through the chamber, despite all doors and windows being closed. She clenched her jaw so tightly, she thought her teeth might crack, regaining control of her Chaos.</p><p>“Do what you will,” she spat. “I want no part of it!” Without another word, the Rectoress stormed out of the room, leaving the two women stunned in her wake.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>By the time Triss had finished preparing for the summoning, daylight had long since passed, and the night was especially black from a cloudy, contemptuous night sky. The young redhead had spent a majority of the day researching the most powerful summoning incantations, picking one, and then practicing it over and over, until the words fell from her mouth without need for concentration.</p><p>The other part of her preparation involved deciding on a binding circle, and the herbs she would mingle with the salt that would draw the circle. The center of Yennefer’s bedchamber was adorned with two concentric seven-pointed stars, with a candle and a charged crystal at each point.</p><p>Yennefer had watched in awe as Triss poured out the salt lines, meticulously tracing out every curve and tip, sweeping her bouncy curls from her face as she carefully placed every item so it would not disrupt the large ring. All the while, she chanted an incantation in Elder, charging it, and strengthening its binding ability.</p><p>“It’s time,” Triss said gravely, looking at her anxious friend. “Step <em>extremely</em> carefully into the circle. Disturb nothing.”</p><p>The dark-haired woman had never looked so pale in her life. She wrung her shaking hands together, and a thin sheen of sweat pebbled her forehead and chest. Putting on as brave a face as possible, Yennefer did an awkward hop into the magical enclosure, and when she entered it, all of the hairs on her neck and arms stood on end.</p><p>Triss spoke another phrase in Elder, which she said was sealing the circle, and would prevent the summoned Djinn from leaving it. The two women stared at each other in a prolonged moment of silence, and the healer’s eyes shone with open apology. She felt dirty for what she was about to do.</p><p>“Do it,” Yennefer whispered.</p><p>The incantation, which Triss had spent most of the day practicing, began to echo around the room. She spoke clearly, and with intent, ramming down all of her disgust and fear. She had to put her emotions aside to effectively channel every bit of Chaos she would need. Her heart broke a little when she saw Yennefer tense up, squeezing her eyes shut, looking like she was anticipating a firm strike.</p><p>After the fifth repetition of the incantation, there was a physical shift in the air around them. The clouds outside churned and flashed with lightning, and a wind that was rapidly becoming a gale whipped at the towering stone walls of Aretuza.</p><p>Yennefer fell to her knees, convulsing, and a silent scream unhinged her jaw. Her back arched out, joints going rigid, eyes swiveling much too rapidly around their sockets. Triss was forced to bellow the incantation over the deafening roar in the room.</p><p>Suddenly, silence. The air stopped lashing about, but every bit of debris swirling around the room seemed suspended in slow motion. A new presence had entered the chamber, causing the strange suspension of the debris. The room felt stuffy, and it thrummed with magic.</p><p>Yennefer remained on her knees, but her head lolled forward, her limbs jerking as though they were attached to a marionette’s strings. Her eyes were blank, hollow, and unseeing. Then, her mouth began to move in a terribly unnatural way, a guttural voice not her own ripping from her throat.</p><p>“<em>Who…are…you?”</em></p><p>“One who seeks answers!”</p><p>
  <em>“Why…should I…answer?”</em>
</p><p>“Because I will release you if you do!”</p><p>
  <em>“…Ask.”</em>
</p><p>“Why have you bound yourself to this woman?”</p><p>
  <em>“The wish.”</em>
</p><p>“The one made by the Witcher, Geralt?”</p><p><em>“Yeeeesssss…”</em> it dragged out the word in a sickening hiss, and stringy threads of drool flowed freely from Yennefer’s mouth.</p><p>“Why did you do that?” Triss fought down a swell of bile in her throat, the sickening, twisted voice and movements in her friend’s rigid body making her feel nauseous.</p><p><em>“The wish…could not be…fulfilled!” </em>The anger in the Djinn’s voice spoke volumes of how enraged it was at admitting that truth.</p><p>“Why could it not be fulfilled?” Triss could feel her Chaos being drained much faster than she had anticipated. The Djinn was significantly more powerful than she had predicted, and the effort of keeping the summoning circle properly shielded was taxing her reserves. She wiped away a trickle of blood from her nose.</p><p>Yennefer’s head snapped up suddenly, the blank eyes seeming to fixate on something behind Triss. What could only be described as a snarl gone horribly wrong had wrenched itself from her gaping maw, and her body lurched forward. It bounced off of the invisible barrier of the circle, but the Djinn scrabbled wildly against it, attempting to attack whatever it was seeing.</p><p>The redhead chanced a look over her shoulder, and she saw Tissaia standing in the doorway. The Rectoress stared furiously at the possessed figure of Yennefer, and, though she tried to project an air of cold fury, she could not hide the twitch in her eye or the way her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles shone bone-white.</p><p><em>“Youuuuu!”</em> the Djinn shrieked, and Tissaia narrowed her eyes, calmly approaching the summoning circle. The closer she came, the higher the candles burned, until they were little fountains of livid flames.</p><p>Tissaia held up one of her hands, allowing the light to catch on the tiny, pink scars on her two fingertips. “You did this to me,” she stated calmly.</p><p><em>“You…are the…</em>source<em>,”</em> it seethed, and trickles of blood leaked from Yennefer’s ears.</p><p>“Why could the wish not be fulfilled,” Tissaia said, repeating Triss’ question, while continuing to maintain her aloof demeanor.</p><p><em>“Destiny…Destiny…Destiny…”</em> The words fell as a chant from Yennefer’s drooling mouth, and a frenzy of Chaos began to whirl around the room again. Every time it spoke the word, its voice grew louder and more demented, and Yennefer’s body began to jerk and thrash about. Tissaia could feel the Djinn channeling all of its immense power to break Triss’ magic so that it could escape to its own realm again.</p><p><em>“Destiny! Destiny! Destiny!”</em> it continued to wail, and just when all of the tension in the chamber was hitting a fever pitch, there was a moment of heart-stopping silence. <em>“Four marks…”</em> it wheezed out, then Tissaia felt the magic in the room shatter. Yennefer slumped, unconscious, her nose and ears bleeding, to the floor. Triss also collapsed to her hands and knees, panting and crying, blood flowing freely from both of her nostrils.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tissaia sighed.</p><hr/><p>Now including the <em>gorgeous</em> artwork of kat_jaq also found on Tumblr @sentientpinkfrosting Thank you for these lovely drawings! </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oooooooooh! It's getting heavy! Let me know what y'all think! As always, thank you so much for the kudos and comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey all! I want to send out a huge thank you to you for getting this fic over 1000 hits! I am grateful and tickled pink! I also want to give another quick shoutout to kat_jaq (@sentientpinkfrosting on Tumblr) for doing jaw-dropping artwork for the previous chapter! It's at the bottom of it, so check it out if you haven't had a chance to yet! And last, but very much not least, another shoutout to my beloved wife for helping me make yet another chapter happen! Best Beta ever &lt;3 </p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three days had passed since the ordeal with the summoning. It had left both Yennefer and Triss in a weakened state. Physically, Triss was healthy, but summoning the Djinn and interacting with it had forced her to establish a mental bond with both the Djinn and Yennefer. The onslaught of thoughts, feelings, and knowledge had been beyond overwhelming, and the usual brightness that shone from the redhead’s mocha eyes was replaced with an exhausted gloom.</p><p>Yennefer, however, fared far worse. She was unconscious for a whole day, following the ritual. Every muscle in her body ached, screaming with fatigue. Upon waking, she refused to speak, to look anyone in the eye, and she had not slept for two whole nights. The dark-haired woman seemed vacant, as though her body was present, but her mind had drifted to another plane.</p><p>Tissaia had spent little time tending to Triss, since both women knew that the healer was infinitely stronger than she appeared, and that Yennefer’s need was far greater. The Rectoress spent every spare moment with her former pupil, doing everything in her power to coax the woman back from the ashes of her trauma.</p><p>Yennefer’s unwillingness to sleep was what ultimately disturbed Tissaia the most. She knew that the younger woman would not heal if she did not allow her mind and body to rest, yet Yennefer refused every offer of sleeping draughts. Tissaia’s frustration brought her dangerously close to putting the woman to sleep with a spell, but she knew that Yennefer would resent her for forcing it upon her.</p><p>As the deep black of the third night seeped into every chilly corner of Aretuza, rain bearing down on the walls from heavy clouds, Tissaia found herself entering Yennefer’s quarters. The younger woman was sat in a chair in front of the dying fire, the only light in the blackened chamber. A biting wind whipped in through the open balcony doors, rain carelessly splashing in on the stone floors, causing Tissaia to shiver.</p><p>The meekly-burning embers danced in Yennefer’s eyes and cast flickering, orange highlights on her pitch tresses. Her head was cocked at an angle, and there seemed to be so little life lingering in her unmoving form that Tissaia almost thought she was staring at a corpse. The diminishing light of the fire only served to draw attention to the black circles etched deeply under her vacant eyes.</p><p>Tissaia quietly approached Yennefer, uttering a spell under her breath that caused the balcony doors to close and latch. She stood behind the younger woman, and carefully rested her hands upon unresponsive shoulders. Yennefer did not react to the touch at all.</p><p>“You must sleep, dear,” Tissaia murmured, and her words were met with no response. “Yenna…” she sighed, too exhausted to cringe at her use of the affectionate name.</p><p>“I don’t want to,” the younger woman groused. She spoke so softly that the words almost didn’t reach the Rectoress’ ears.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“It hurts.” Yennefer’s statement was succinct and without feeling.</p><p>“How does it hurt? Help me to understand, and then maybe I can help you. You cannot go on like this.”</p><p>The dark-haired woman let out a bitter, cold laugh that chilled Tissaia to her core. “You’re asking me <em>how</em> it hurts? You fucking know how!” In an unexpected blur of movement, Yennefer was on her feet, disgust drawn over her body. The brunette would have been alarmed had she not felt relief wash over her at finally seeing a display of emotion from her.</p><p>“I am not ignorant, nor am I a fool, Yennefer. I am fully aware of how cruel the summoning was, but I am asking <em>you</em>. I will not pretend to know what and how you feel, and so…I am simply trying to understand. I only want to help-” Tissaia’s words were cut short.</p><p>A deep dribble of crimson dropped from Yennefer’s nose, the droplets splattering on the stone floor. Yennefer was untroubled by this, but she did look a little embarrassed. Her nasal hemorrhages had been a frequent occurrence since the ritual, something Triss said was normal and would go away in several days’ time.</p><p>Tissaia was immediately in Yennefer’s space, producing a handkerchief, and pressing it to the young woman’s face. The gesture was full of compassion and warmth, with everything from the way the brunette looked up through hooded eyes, staring at the rivulet of blood, to the gentleness with which she blotted at the offending gore.</p><p>When she looked up to meet Yennefer’s penetrating gaze, the Rectoress became acutely aware of how little space was between them. The younger woman’s hand drifted up to Tissaia’s, covering it with her own. She felt her heart skip a beat at the heat from the contact, and as Yennefer took the handkerchief from her, the brunette swallowed hard, resisting the urge to pull away and flee.</p><p>“You came back,” Yennefer whispered. “You said you wanted no part of the summoning, but I remember…” The younger woman’s sigh ghosted over Tissaia’s face. “You want to know what I feel?”</p><p>“Yes,” Tissaia managed to breathe out.</p><p>She watched as the dying licks of the fire danced in amethyst eyes, much too aware of just how low her guard was at the moment. She was reminded of a very different confrontation in Rinde with Yennefer. She remembered just how closed off the brazen mage had been, forcing Tissaia away with everything in her arsenal. The moment they shared now was so very different. There were no walls holding them at bay, and the Rectoress felt her stomach clench with an icy stab of fear.</p><p>“When Triss called up the Djinn…” Yennefer’s voice halted, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut momentarily, regaining her composure. “I felt like I was being torn to shreds from the inside out. I felt my very consciousness was disintegrating as it forced its way into my mind. The Djinn was forcing <em>me</em> out, so <em>it</em> could be let in.” The younger woman’s lip trembled; her eyes glassy.</p><p>“It was agony, Tissaia. Not physically, not at first, anyway. Every second was an eternal struggle. It was trying to drown me, snuff me out like a candle. Tissaia, I…I cannot tell you how close I was to giving in. It would have been so easy to let the Djinn win. To let it consume me and take all the toil away. That’s what it promised me.”</p><p>Yennefer looked away, a dark frown etched across her refined features. For a moment, Tissaia thought that the other woman was going to step away, creating a buffer of space between them. Instead, the brunette felt the hand covering her own tighten. Those violet eyes snapped back to hers, and she could see the pain and confusion battling in their depths.</p><p>“But then…you were in the doorway. Everything that I could see was a blurry, distorted mess, like a smeared oil painting. Except for you. Tissaia, you were the one, clear thing I could see. The sight of you…it anchored me and kept me from succumbing. The Djinn punished me for that. I-I can’t describe it…</p><p>“I got the most overwhelming sensation of fury from it. The Djinn, it <em>hated</em> you. No, more like, it resented you to the very core of its being. That’s when I felt whatever sense of self I was clinging to light ablaze. It wanted to attack you, Tissaia. It wanted to make you suffer. Only, the salt circle kept it from getting to you, so it turned its wrath upon me.”</p><p>“Yennefer, I…I didn’t know that it would do that to you.” Tissaia’s voice was weak, and wished she could hold the younger woman to her and make her pain disappear.</p><p>“I know,” the other woman said, blinking away tears. “I know that you didn’t know. So, why <em>did</em> you come back? What changed?”</p><p>Tissaia could not ignore the weight that question carried. What had changed? More like, what hadn’t changed? Everything was so different, yet veiled, as if a thick fog blurred a deeper truth, lying in wait. The brunette had to fight back the urge to, yet again, pull away from Yennefer. Throwing up her walls and shoving everything down inside of her had not worked in Rinde, and it would not work now. Not to mention the fact that this Yennefer had the uncanny ability to see around all of that. She would not let Tissaia get away with her usual tactics.</p><p>“It would have been cruel,” Tissaia breathed, wishing that Yennefer wasn’t so close, but also wishing that she was closer still. “It would have been cruel to leave you in a time of need. Too often have I done that. And not just with you, Yennefer, but with all of my girls. But, the thought of you going through that alone…” Tissaia brought her hand up, lightly, tenderly cupping the dark-haired woman’s face, sweeping away a stray lock of hair, and she could feel Yennefer lean into her touch.</p><p>“Tissaia, every time I close my eyes…I can <em>feel</em> the way the Djinn tried to destroy me.”</p><p>“That’s why you’re not sleeping,” Tissaia murmured.</p><p>“Would you be able to? After something like that?”</p><p>“Let me help you, Yennefer. I’ve made some sleeping draught, and I can-”</p><p>“No!” Yennefer exclaimed, and she pulled away slightly, breaking the contact between them. “No, I don’t want anything like that. I can’t wake up from it, and if the dreams…” Her voice wavered. “Would you…would you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone.” Yennefer’s dark eyes cast over to the bed and then back to Tissaia.</p><p>For the first time since entering the chamber that night, the Rectoress felt a small smile tug at her mouth. The moment was bittersweet, but still worth savoring. She had no illusions that this was both the first and likely last time that Yennefer would ever ask her for anything. After a beat, she decided to lock away how feeling needed by the younger woman made her heart feel lighter than it had in centuries.</p><p>“If that is what you need, my dear. I’ll not leave your side until you’ve found sleep.” Tissaia took Yennefer’s hand again, and silently led her over to the bed. Tacit tension hung in the air while the young woman settled herself under the covers, and the brunette dragged a chair over to the bedside. Yennefer turned her head to the right, looking up at the Rectoress through her thick lashes. Neither spoke for several, long moments.</p><p>“When I said earlier that I didn’t want to sleep…it’s because I’m afraid,” Yennefer whispered, and Tissaia was unable to see the flush coloring her cheeks in the dim light.</p><p>“I am guessing it wouldn’t help for me to just say that you’re safe here?”</p><p>The younger woman frowned. “How could you expect me to feel safe when every agonizing moment of that summoning happened mere meters away from my bed, in this very chamber?”</p><p>The Rectoress hesitated for a long moment. “I could stay by your side while you slept in my chambers? Or, we could put you up in one of the other guest quarters,” Tissaia hastily added on, her own blush far more visible against her pale face. Yennefer watched delicate fingers wrap around the pendant that the brunette never seemed to be without.</p><p>“Do you often invite helpless, amnesiac girls to your bedchamber, Rectoress?” she asked mildly. Tissaia’s reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened almost comically, and her mouth opened and closed several times in between exasperated huffs of air.</p><p>“What? I-no! Where did you get that idea? I-I would never! That’s just <em>improper!</em>” she managed to stammer out.</p><p>Yennefer barked out a laugh at the older woman’s vexation, and it was the very first time she had done so since the ordeal. Another smaller chuckle escaped her throat when she saw Tissaia’s shocked, then irritated, expression.</p><p>“Do you enjoy provoking me so? It is most unbecoming!” The Rectoress’ words were overtly agitated, but it was undercut by the small smile teasing the corners of her mouth.</p><p>“Mm…unbecoming, yes, but terribly fun too!” The mirth evaporated quickly from Yennefer’s amethyst eyes, and she adopted a somber look. “Honestly, it’s one of the only ways I feel like I have any sort of control now.”</p><p>Tissaia cocked her head, two little creases forming between her brows. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Without my memory…without my sense of self, I feel so powerless and naked. You all have your armor. You have your high collars,” Yennefer said, nodding to the aforementioned accessory on Tissaia’s gown. “And, Triss has her smile. I have nothing,” she finished bitterly.</p><p>“What do you think <em>your</em> armor was? Before your amnesia?”</p><p>“From what I’ve heard of myself, pretty dresses and a lot of bravado. Not to mention, no small amount of sex appeal,” she said matter-of-factly.</p><p>“Well, you’re not exactly wrong,” Tissaia said with a small laugh through her nose.</p><p>Yennefer rolled onto her right side, so she could prop herself up on her arm. “Can I ask you a question?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Do you like this version of me better?” She peered shyly up at the other woman, all of her insecurity and doubt on display.</p><p>“What? What do you mean by that?” The two little creases between Tissaia’s brows deepened, and Yennefer wished she could reach out with her thumb and smooth them away.</p><p>“I mean that it’s not hard to figure out that who I was, was a bitch. That woman sounds bitter, cold, and lost. I most certainly still feel lost, but for different reasons. But whoever I am now…I’m nicer, aren’t I? How could you like or even tolerate who I was?” She desperately hoped that the murky light concealed the tears she was trying to blink back.</p><p>“My dear,” Tissaia said, softening. “You never made it easy. You were proud and stubborn. So <em>very</em> stubborn.” She smiled, her eyes looking off into the distance, clearly dwelling on a memory.</p><p>“Yennefer, you said gowns, bravado, and a cold shoulder were your armor, and that you’re naked without them. You couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t think those things were truly your armor. You may have treated them as such, but I think they were crutches. Your true strength, Yennefer, your true armor is your resiliency. Nothing in your life has ever been freely given to you. You have had to struggle and fight for everything you have ever had, and every time I think you have hit a limit, you prove me wrong.”</p><p>Yennefer felt the older woman’s fingers ghost over her own, and she was, once again, taken by just how warm her touch was. Every time the brunette touched her, Yennefer felt as though she was being given the answer to a question no one had asked. She felt a little braver, a little calmer, a little <em>safer</em> under Tissaia’s tentative caresses.</p><p>“No matter who you are, or were, it is clear to me that no amount of amnesia can take that from you. You could have given in to the Djinn, you said so yourself, but you didn’t. You have always fought, and you always will.” The brunette had leaned forward, fully scooping up Yennefer’s hands in her own.</p><p>“If you can fight off the power of a Djinn, you can fight off any demons that would steal your sleep. Lay back and close your eyes.”</p><p>“I…thank you,” Yennefer whispered, snuggling herself into the blankets and pillows. “Don’t let go of my hand.”</p><p>“I won’t. Hush now, sweet girl. Sleep and find peace. You are safe. I promise.”</p><p>Almost an hour had slipped by, and Yennefer’s fingers were slack against Tissaia’s. Her breathing was measured and deep, only interrupted by the occasional hitch in her breath. The brunette stared fondly down at her sleeping form, their conversation continuously twisting through her mind. She smiled to herself when the younger woman sighed in her sleep.</p><p>“My dear piglet,” she whispered to herself. “Always afraid of never being loved. You never realized that I have loved every version of you. From pig pen to court mage, I have wished joy for you. I know I can never be that to you, but some day, I hope you will find it for yourself.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yennefer awoke to the sounds of distant thunder and rain lashing against the windows. Grey morning light brought a chilly atmosphere to the room, and she blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes. She quickly focused on the Rectoress, and a smile broke out across her face.</p><p>The small woman was still seated in the chair by her bed, and her head was lolled onto her right shoulder. Her lips were parted, releasing tiny puffs of air, and all the worry lines were absent from her refined features. Yennefer was certain she had never seen Tissaia look so calm before, even though she couldn’t remember. It also did not escape Yennefer’s notice that her fingers were still intertwined with Tissaia’s.</p><p>She lightly squeezed the limp hand in hers, hoping it would wake the Rectoress without startling her. The brunette’s head snapped to attention, blue eyes darting about until they landed on the younger woman.</p><p>“Good morning,” Yennefer said, her voice still husky from sleep. Tissaia pulled her hand away, using it to massage the crick that had lodged itself in her neck.</p><p>“Good morning.” She stretched her limbs out, the motion eliciting several pops and cracks. “Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“Mm…quite,” the dark-haired woman mused.</p><p>“Good.” Tissaia’s azure eyes roamed over Yennefer’s face. “You look better. Your body needed the rest. How is your appetite? Shall I bring breakfast?”</p><p>“Yes, now that you mention it. I’m starving.” As if proving her point, Yennefer’s stomach churned loudly. “Will you…” She hesitated, and then hoisted herself up onto her elbows. “Will you eat breakfast with me? I still don’t want to be alone.”</p><p>“Of course, my dear. I will have the meal sent up here, and I would very much like to change into something that I haven’t been wearing for the last twenty-four hours. I will be back shortly.”</p><p>Yennefer hoped Tissaia did not see the slight blush on her cheeks at the thought of the older woman changing clothes. It was much too early for those kinds of thoughts, and she decided she would distract herself by getting up and put together during the Rectoress’ absence.</p><p>She extricated herself from the quilts, and gingerly made her way to the washroom, wincing at how icy the floor was under her bare feet. She poured water from a clay jug into a shallow basin, then splashed it across her face. If she thought the floor was cold, it was nothing compared to the frigidness of the water. It stung against her cheeks, and she felt her drowsiness being chased away by the sensation.</p><p>There was a small tin of mint leaves on a table with a looking glass, hairbrush, hairpins, perfume, and a sparse collection of jewelry. She pulled a couple of leaves from the tin, and mashed them around her mouth, freshening her breath. Yennefer then set herself to work on taming her wild mane of hair. Locks of it stood out at odd angles, and the curls were less elegant and more just frizzy tangles.</p><p>Just as she finished putting on some slippers and shrugging on a warm robe over her dress, she heard the heavy door of her bedchamber swing open. Tissaia strode purposefully into the room, bearing a tray of food and tea.</p><p>Yennefer’s stomach groaned at the sight, and she hurried over to the little tea table by the fire. Smoked fish, hot, sliced bread, apples, warm brie, honey, jam, fresh yogurt, cured meats, and a little dish of nuts were on the salver.</p><p>Tissaia lifted the little teapot and poured some out for each of them. “Bergamot tea. For your vitality. I also remember it being your favorite,” Tissaia remarked lightly, her eyes focused on carefully measuring out the hot liquid.</p><p>“That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you.” Yennefer privately wondered if she herself had ever even bothered to learn anything that the older woman favored. How much time had Tissaia spent learning such things about her, and had she learnt nothing of the brunette? Or had she learnt everything?</p><p>Both women tucked into their breakfast in easy silence, and Yennefer smiled to herself when she sipped at the tea, enjoying it even more now that she knew Tissaia had thought of her when requesting it.</p><p>“So,” Yennefer said, breaking the quiet. “Have you figured out what the Djinn meant? About the four marks and Destiny?”</p><p>“No. I am hesitant to go with the most obvious answer,” Tissaia stated.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Djinns are so mysterious and poorly understood. Their enigmatic behavior means that we can’t take anything it said at face value.” Tissaia frowned at her own words.</p><p>“What does Triss think?” Yennefer asked, popping a slice of apple into her mouth.</p><p>“Triss is a firm believer in Destiny,” the brunette said with a bitter smile.</p><p>“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”</p><p>“It’s not. And, I suppose it’s easier to just accept Destiny, rather than fight it or deny its existence.”</p><p>“Why do people try to do that? Why do they hate Destiny?” Yennefer peered over at the older woman, and she was startled to see a rueful smile appear across those pale lips.</p><p>“You know, I never thought I would be explaining this to you. You hate Destiny more than anyone I have ever met, and I have met <em>many</em> people. Folk across the Continent tend to revile and rebuke Destiny, because it takes away their choice. They feel that there is no point in trying to change their lives or make their own choices, because Destiny has already chosen for them.” The brunette looked over at Yennefer with a sad smile. She reached her hand out, slowly tracing a finger down the younger woman’s cheek.</p><p>“If there was anything you have craved most, it was the ability to choose for yourself,” Tissaia whispered, her finger lingering along the line of Yennefer’s jaw.</p><p>Yennefer’s lips parted, and she found herself hoping that the Rectoress would never break contact. Her violet eyes searched blue ones, and she hunted for any hint that Tissaia felt the same lightning under her skin that she felt in that moment.</p><p>Swallowing, and lips trembling, Yennefer asked, “And, if I were to crave something different now?” She felt her stomach swoop when she heard Tissaia’s breath catch in her throat.</p><p>“Yennefer…” The older woman opened her mouth, a confession on her tongue, but the words died instantly when the chamber door swung open.</p><p>Triss swept into the room, eyes bright and curls bouncing. She was mid-greeting when she stopped in the middle of the room and took a closer look at the other two women. She caught the way Tissaia’s hand snapped away from Yennefer’s face. The air was thick with the sort of tension one felt when walking in on teenaged lovers. Her raven-haired friend shifted awkwardly in her seat, unable to make eye contact. Her mentor looked perfectly composed, except for the unusually-pink blush on her high cheekbones.</p><p>“Pardon me,” Triss said with a wry smile. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”</p><p>“Don’t be daft,” Tissaia scoffed. “You’re hardly interrupting. We are simply enjoying breakfast.”</p><p>Yennefer slumped into her chair, crossing her arms petulantly. “None of you know how to knock,” she grumbled under her breath.</p><p>“May I sit?” the redhead asked, approaching their table. She did so when Yennefer gestured toward an empty chair. “I think I have an idea on how to figure out the Djinn’s message. Even better, I think it might help get Yenn’s memory back! I feel like such a fool for not thinking of it earlier!”</p><p>“Out with it, girl!” Tissaia’s bark was not harsh, but it was urgent.</p><p>“This is tied to Fate! Which, as we all know, is an incredibly fickle force. We can take Yenn to see a pellar! The real ones seem to have…well, it’s like a direct line to Destiny itself. A proper pellar could tap into that and would likely be able to reveal to us what we can’t figure out!”</p><p>Tissaia frowned, and Yennefer looked between the two of them. She hated how she always felt out of the loop when they were discussing things that she had no knowledge of, because she could not remember. The Rectoress looked to Yennefer, but she seemed to be looking more in the distance, than into her eyes.</p><p>“They do have…unorthodox methods. Ancient magics. It’s a sound idea, Triss.”</p><p>“Okay, before the two of you decide on this thing <em>for</em> me,” Yennefer cut in. “What’s it going to do <em>to</em> me,” she asked crossly.</p><p>“From my experience with those folk,” Triss started, “They would likely use some kind of herb mixture to induce a trance, and then invoke magics to stir visions within your mind. They can reveal many things…not all of them good. I figure it can unlock your memory, as well as solve your riddle of Destiny.”</p><p>“The trance…it’s not going to be anything like the summoning, is it?” Yennefer swallowed hard, trying to push back the memory.</p><p>“No, thank the Gods. I doubt it will be a walk in the garden, but you will not suffer.”</p><p>Yennefer sighed, dropping her head into her hands. Silence hung in the air, and she could feel both women waiting for a response. She desperately wanted to have her mind made whole again, and yet, she was afraid. She was afraid that becoming the woman she used to be would hurt more than having amnesia. She was afraid of the monster she had heard of in the stories about her, and a part of her wanted to just ignore it all and build a new life. A part of her secretly thought that she might just be better off this way.</p><p>Another memory stirred in her mind, one from last night, when a beautiful brunette woman with a sad smile sat next to her, keeping the nightmares at bay. Tissaia’s words about her armor, her resiliency, rang through her mind. Yennefer believed the Rectoress when she had told her that she always had and always would fight for herself. It was a cruel world, but she refused to submit, and, as long as Tissaia was at her side, maybe, just maybe, she could weather this storm.</p><p>“Well that’s that, then,” she said, jaw set. “Let’s get my memory back.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Triss knows what's up. Anyone else love seeing Yenn make Tissaia completely flustered? </p><p>I love all of your comments, and I read every single one of them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I would like to say thanks for your patience. I have had a very difficult time getting this chapter out, and I was struggling to keep my motivation to write. Def a big shout out to my wife, who helped me workshop this chapter a lot, wherein I had to rewrite the opening about six times (!!!) I know that this chapter is a bit of a filler, but it's a long one to reward you all for the wait! There is a nice little treat in there for you, so I hope you guys enjoy!</p><p>Now with more beautiful art from kat_jaq (@sentientpinkfrosting on tumblr)! Thank you so much for bringing my writing to life!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yennefer found herself pacing around her bedchamber again. She and Tissaia were to make their journey to see the pellar that day, and every last one of her nerves was jangling. The sun had barely crested the horizon, and all its crimson, pink, and orange hues bounced off of the sea’s rippling surface. Were it not for the fires roaring in every hearth in Aretuza, she was sure she would have seen her breath misting before her face. A tiny knock sounded on her door, and she bade the visitor to enter, but she kept her back to the entrance. She simply wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries or social etiquette.</p><p>She heard footsteps behind her, and took a breath to ready herself. When she did turn around to greet her visitor, she felt her heart stop and mouth fell open. Yennefer’s knees trembled as she shamelessly stared at the approaching woman, and suddenly all the chill air across the Continent couldn’t hope to cool the searing blood racing through her veins. She could feel her heart hammering in her throat and somewhere else much lower.</p><p>Yennefer watched the Rectoress stride confidently across the room, and she hungrily feasted upon what she saw. Tissaia wore dark, leather boots with a shallow heel lacing neatly up just below her knee. They were pulled over a pair of breathtakingly-tight leather riding trousers, drawn over muscles that flexed tantalizingly beneath with each step. Her breaths became shallow when she noticed that they laced down the outside curves of her hips and slender legs in precise little x’s, revealing tiny glimpses of porcelain skin underneath.</p><p>As her eyes crept upwards, Yennefer needed to swallow roughly. She was treated to the sight of an exquisitely-fitted leather bodice, covered in floral motifs, each dyed a rich burgundy, stamped into the material. It clung firmly to the dips of her narrow waist, accentuating Tissaia’s full bust. The V of the bodice dipped immodestly-low, revealing the many laces crossing the neckline of a white, long-sleeved, cotton shirt underneath. The crisscross of fabric hinted at an enticing view of ample cleavage, forced upward by the stiff bodice, and Yennefer felt her tongue dart out to moisten her parched lips.</p><p>“Once you have quite finished your ogling,” Tissaia said in a clipped tone. “We must be on our way.”</p><p>Yennefer blinked for a moment, and she felt the blush painting her chest and cheeks deepen even further. She frowned slightly, finally taking the time to take in Tissaia’s expression and not just her body – sumptuous as the sight may be. The other woman’s face was emotionless at first glance, but Yennefer could see the creases between her brows, coupled with the slightly forward set of her jaw, bringing out a deeper brooding look.</p><p>“Well good morning to you too,” Yennefer said more testily than she had meant to, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “And I wasn’t ogling!”</p><p>“My dear, I was almost certain I would need to wipe the drool from your chin,” Tissaia purred, but the words were cold and venomous. She met Yennefer’s eyes with a condescending stare, as if daring the younger woman to contradict her. “Make yourself presentable and meet me in my office. I would like to get this over with.”</p><p>Yennefer felt the words like an icy stab in her stomach. The Tissaia in front of her was a far cry from the woman who had whispered comforts to her in the night, holding her hand to chase away sleep-stealing demons. The distance between them now felt more like a thousand miles, rather than a few feet, and Tissaia kept her hands firmly clasped at her waist, mouth drawn in a hard line.</p><p>“Tissaia, I…” <em>Desperately want to know why you are shutting me out right now.</em> “I will see you in your office within the hour.” Yennefer took a tentative step forward, only to be met with a step back from the older woman.</p><p>She felt a slight pop in her sinus, and then a hot dribble of blood leaked from her nose. For a moment, she could see concern flicker across the Rectoress’ face, and her hands twitched, as if they wanted to reach out and stem the flow. Instead, she left, not even acknowledging Triss, who stood bewildered in the doorway.</p><p>Yennefer scowled after the retreating form of the older sorceress, using the sleeve of her dressing gown to press against her nosebleed. “What are <em>you</em> doing here,” she asked the redhead accusatorially. She regretted it after seeing the hurt look in tired, amber eyes.</p><p>“Are you okay? What happened between you two?” Triss came right up to Yennefer and pulled her hand from her nose to examine the blood flow. It had already slowed to a sluggish trickle.</p><p>“Am <em>I</em> okay?” Yennefer’s tone was incredulous. “More like is <em>she</em> okay? What the fuck is wrong with her?” She gestured at the now-empty doorway.</p><p>Triss fixed her friend with an odd look, cocking her head to one side. She took a deep breath through her nose, as if she was taking a moment to weigh which words she wanted to choose next. She pulled the jade shawl wrapped around her shoulders a little more tightly, rubbing her exhausted face, opting for the very direct, “Tell me what happened first.”</p><p>“I don’t understand her!” Yennefer said with a frustrated huff. “Lately, she’s been so…I don’t know. Soft? The night before last, she sat by my bed, <em>all night</em>, just to make sure I got some sleep.” Yennefer left out the hand-holding part, and she felt her embarrassment color her cheeks again. “She was so caring, and attentive, and…” <em>She made me feel things that terrify me.</em> “Ever since the summoning,” Yennefer’s words died in her throat again, and she looked away from the healer in humiliation.</p><p>“Speaking of the summoning,” Triss said quietly. “I wanted to apologize to you.”</p><p>“Apologize? For what?”</p><p>“For putting you through that. It must have been a heinous thing, and I can see you’re still suffering from it. I wish I had never suggested it.” She looked guiltily over at Yennefer, and her regret shone through her glassy eyes.</p><p>“I…thanks. For apologizing, I mean. But just so you know, I don’t blame you or anything. I consented. Plus, it <em>did</em> give us a lead,” she pointed out to the healer, who gave a bitter laugh in return.</p><p>“You consented to something you knew nothing of. It is cold comfort compared to what I saw you endure, Yenn.” Triss played with the fringe of her shawl, looking remorsefully at the threads.</p><p>“You’re right, Triss. It sucked. I can’t sleep, I have nightmares, I’m exhausted, and I don’t know if any of this will have even been worth it in the end. What I do know, though, is that I don’t blame you for this. All you and Tissaia have tried to do is help me, and I am grateful.” Yennefer stared intensely at her friend, willing her feelings to flood her words with truth.</p><p>“It’s so weird, to still hear you talk this way,” Triss mused.</p><p>“What does that mean?”</p><p>“You’re so open and vulnerable. And, I don’t mean that in a bad way,” the healer added hastily. “It’s a beautiful thing to see in you, Yenn.”</p><p>“I must have really been an insufferable bitch if a little bit of honesty makes you react this way,” Yennefer said, frowning at the fire. “I feel like a fool!”</p><p>She jerked away from Triss, combing her fingers over her scalp in a frustrated motion. She stalked over to the balcony doors, and opened them, stepping out onto the ledge. Her breath danced in front of her before disappearing into nothingness. She leaned heavily on the railing, inhaling the salty air.</p><p>“I’m <em>afraid</em>,” she muttered angrily. “Should I even go through with this, Triss? Seeing the pellar and getting my memories back?” She turned to look at the redhead, and she nervously fisted her hands.</p><p>“I-I can’t answer that question for you, Yenn,” Triss stammered, startled by the brutally honest statement. “What are you most afraid of?”</p><p>Yennefer let out a sigh she did not realize she had been holding on to. She tousled her wild curls again and turned to peer out across the sea. She sucked on her teeth while trying to find the right words to say.</p><p>“I’m afraid of losing everything I have here right now. I feel like everything I feel now is going to get swallowed up by the monster that I was.”</p><p>“First of all, you were <em>not</em> a monster,” Triss comforted. “Secondly, those things will only happen if you let them happen. You are the only one who is in complete control of your actions.”</p><p>Yennefer shot her friend an unimpressed look, cocking her eyebrow. “Please,” she drawled. “I’ve been…well whoever this version of me is for what? Two weeks? And the old version of me? She’s got, oh I don’t know…<em>a century or two </em>on me. I think we know who will win this battle of wills. But…gods this is so embarrassing,” she said, chiding herself. “That’s not even what I’m most afraid of losing.” Yennefer kept her eyes firmly fixed on the skyline, choking back emotions fighting to break loose.</p><p>“I get it, you know.” Triss quietly said in her calm, disarming voice. “You’re afraid of losing Tissaia.” The healer’s statement was just that, and not even remotely a question. “It’s okay. I’ve seen the way you look at her,” she said gently, and a soft smile played at her full lips.</p><p>“Is it that obvious?” Yennefer moaned, and dropped her head into her hands.</p><p>“Maybe to me it is,” Triss shrugged. “But it’s up to you if you want Tissaia to know.”</p><p>“What’s there for her to know,” Yennefer scoffed.</p><p>“She could feel the same way?” the healer tried to point out.</p><p>The dark-haired woman leveled Triss with a look that made her shrink with regret for a moment. She raked her fingers through her wind-mussed hair for a third time before leaning heavily onto the stone railing, as if finally feeling the weight of reality bearing down on her back.</p><p>“You didn’t hear her this morning. She was like ice, acting as if the very idea of being near me was repulsive,” Yennefer started. “It was like she was a whole different person. She was like…a stranger.” The words fell flatly from her lips, and she felt a sense of defeat burrow into her chest.</p><p>“Has it occurred to you that just <em>maybe</em> Tissaia is afraid of losing you too? That maybe she’s giving you the cold shoulder to protect herself?”</p><p>Yennefer hated how true those words felt in her heart. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, trying to convince herself more than anything. “Whatever feelings she may or may not even have for me right now…they’re a farce. Whoever I am is going to disappear, and she would be a fool to entertain such fancies. I don’t know about you, but Tissaia does not strike me as a fool.”</p><p>“Aren’t we all fools in love?” Triss said in her kind, wistful way. It made Yennefer wonder how someone who could see centuries of misery in the world could still hold onto such sweet, naïve ideals.</p><p>“I wouldn’t know,” she retorted coldly. “And no one said anything about love,” she bit out.</p><p>“You’ll never know if you don’t even try. But if you’re so intent on pouting, I will let you prepare for your journey, and then I will see you in Tissaia’s study. Don’t lose hope, Yenn. You’re stronger than you know.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Yennefer nervously wiped her palms on her skirts as she strode down the frigid hall toward the Rectoress’ office. She knew they were to portal to a stable, and then ride horses the rest of the way to the pellar’s, so she had opted for a simple, warm dress with riding skirts, and snug leather boots. She pulled the black, fur-trimmed traveling cloak she had chosen tighter around her shoulders and wondered if she was always this cold in her time here as a student.</p><p>The door to the chamber was already slightly ajar, so Yennefer entered without knocking. Triss was already there, and she seemed to have chased away some of the exhaustion that Yennefer saw earlier. Tissaia was standing with her back to them, beside her imposing desk. Her body was shrouded in a maroon, fur-trimmed cloak that looked almost too large for her slight frame, and her chestnut hair was pinned into the complex chignon that she seemed to favor.</p><p>As Triss approached Yennefer, a portal blossomed to life in front of the Rectoress, causing parchments and other small trinkets around the chamber to flutter in their places. They watched as the older woman wordlessly stepped through, vanishing from sight.</p><p>“She didn’t even look at me,” Yennefer mumbled, and the redhead gave her a pitying look.</p><p>“Give her a little time. I’m sure she’ll come ‘round. Or…you could speed it up and just talk to her yourself.”</p><p>Yennefer shot her friend a questioning glance.</p><p>“Honestly, Yenn…if Sabrina were here,” Triss sighed with exasperation. “I am certain she would be far less, ah, <em>tactful</em> as I am. Just remember what I said before: you’re stronger than you think, and you don’t have to lose yourself. Now go through the portal and stay safe.” Triss leaned in and planted a light kiss on Yennefer’s cheek, smiling encouragingly. “Good luck!”</p><p>Yennefer nodded, then turned to the swirling maw of magic, swallowing hard. Stepping through the portal was a bizarre sensation, and she found herself gulping down breaths of air once the Chaos had dissipated behind her. Portaling felt like the ground, the air, all of the universe was shifting and pulsing around her body as it prickled her skin, causing the hairs on her arms and neck to stand on end.</p><p>Blinking into the morning light, Yennefer saw they were outside a small, but tidy stable nestled on the edge of a wood. She could see Tissaia some thirty paces ahead, conversing with one of the stable hands, likely securing their horses. The dark-haired woman decided to take a moment to soak in her new environment for the time being.</p><p>She spun around, allowing the morning rays to wash over her skin. It was warmer than at Aretuza, but her breath was still coming out in misty puffs. Morning dew glistened on the grass, and remnants of the night fog were desperately trying to cling to the top of the canopy. The trees were a vivid array of greens, but Yennefer could see the first blushes of autumn coloring their leaves. The air was not sharp and salty, like it was on Thanedd, but full and earthy. She breathed deeply, listening to the birdsongs keening through the air.</p><p>She heard footsteps behind her, and she turned around to meet the steely gaze of the Rectoress. The woman was still very much closed off, and her mouth was drawn tight in a sour expression as she pulled sable-trimmed gloves over her pale hands.</p><p>“The stable only has one horse hardy enough for our journey, so we will have to share.” Yennefer shuddered at the disgust in Tissaia’s voice. “You’re the taller, so you will sit behind me. I will have the reins since I know where we are headed.”</p><p>Yennefer gulped as she trailed behind the other woman. To have Tissaia so close, but with such a vast, inhospitable emotional distance between them, was going to be deeply uncomfortable. When they came up to the stable, a young lad was leading their horse out to them. It was a handsome beast, all white save for a misty grey mane, tail, and muzzle. It seemed a little nervous, with its ears slightly pinned back, pawing at the earth.</p><p>The boy handed the lead to Tissaia, darting back to the stables for a set of steps for them to mount more easily with. Yennefer watched in wonder as the other woman’s harsh exterior melted away for the animal. She used the lead to gently direct it’s nose to her face, blowing lightly so it could learn her scent. She cooed softly to it before producing an apple from a small, leather satchel at her hip.</p><p>The horse relaxed, allowing Tissaia to gently stroke its neck, nuzzling her cloak in hopes of finding more apples. The boy scurried up to them, panting slightly, carrying the mounting steps. He set them next to the horse and held up a calloused hand to help them up.</p><p>The Rectoress took the proffered hand out of politeness, rather than necessity, because Yennefer watched her effortlessly swing a leg over the saddle, settling into it easily and adjusting her cloak to make room for her riding companion. The younger woman swallowed, trying and failing to not gawk at the way those damn trousers strained deliciously against Tissaia’s legs.</p><p>Yennefer was far less graceful, and all-around awkward in her mounting. She grunted while clambering clumsily onto the horse, and she positioned herself flush to Tissaia’s back, legs splayed wide against the other woman. Yennefer suddenly realized that she had no idea what to do with her hands, and she felt that wrapping them around Tissaia’s waist would be unwelcome. She decided that the safe choice was to place them hesitantly on the other woman’s shoulders instead.</p><p>“Ephiny is a good ‘orse, m’lady,” the boy said, addressing Tissaia. “She’ll carry ye true. There’s barley in the saddlebag for ‘er if there’s no good grazin’ about.” He patted the mare on her neck affectionately before picking up the steps and heading off for the stable again.</p><p>Yennefer felt Tissaia’s legs tighten against Ephiny, clicking her tongue twice to spur the animal forward. The lurch in motion was more intense than Yennefer had anticipated, and she yelped when she was nearly tossed backward off the saddle. Instinctively, she snaked her arms around the other woman’s middle, burying her face in the fur trim of her cloak. She was almost certain she heard a small snort of laughter from the Rectoress.</p><p>“Sorry,” Yennefer mumbled, moving to take her arms away.</p><p>“No, you can leave them there. You’ll need to stay secure in the saddle, especially if the horse spooks. I don’t need you falling off and breaking your neck,” Tissaia commented, and Yennefer noticed that some of the ice in her voice had diminished.</p><p>The movements of the horse’s strides made their bodies and hips grind against each other, and Yennefer bit the inside of her mouth to try and distract herself from thoughts that were quickly overwhelming her mind.</p><p>Their proximity to each other made it impossible for her to ignore the heat from the Rectoress’ body and the scent of her perfume: sandalwood and vanilla. Earthy, from the sandalwood and leather, but sweet in its undertones. She desperately tried not to imagine Tissaia pouring her scented oils into a steaming hot bath, stripping away her garments, and letting the water lap over endless lengths of naked flesh.</p><p>“My dear, you’re thinking very loudly,” the older woman said in a slightly strained voice, startling Yennefer and causing her to jump a little.</p><p>“Huh? What do you mean ‘thinking loudly?’” She was immediately grateful that being behind Tissaia meant that the other woman couldn’t see the raging flush coloring her face and neck.</p><p>“I can feel, and often hear, the thoughts of those around me. Such is my attunement to Chaos.”</p><p>Yennefer’s stomach dropped, and she felt like an iceberg settled into her navel. Was Tissaia able to hear all of the things she was just fantasizing about her? Had she been hearing those thoughts all along? Panic crashed over her.  </p><p>“Especially those without Chaos, as they cannot ward their minds,” the Rectoress continued, breaking Yennefer’s frantic thought spiral. “I…haven’t allowed that to happen with you, as I have erected my own wards against your thoughts. I know how deeply you value your privacy in those areas,” she stated.</p><p>Sweet relief coursed through the younger woman’s body, and she relaxed, the tension wound inside of her dissipating. It warmed her to know that Tissaia had thought of respecting her privacy, and she wondered, if their situation was swapped, would she have done the same for Tissaia?</p><p>“However, that does not mean that I cannot feel when your mind is projecting it’s thoughts,” the older woman carried on. “They have been…forceful, at times. And, perhaps it is because you are in such close physical contact with me, but they were <em>very</em> loud this time. Is something bothering you?”</p><p>“No,” Yennefer lied weakly. She hoped the other woman wouldn’t see through it, but she doubted Tissaia would be fooled by her lame attempt. She was right, and she heard the smaller woman snort in disbelief.</p><p>“It’s nothing I want to talk about right now,” Yennefer said defensively.</p><p>“Very well,” Tissaia said, her voice even and neutral. “Is there anything that you <em>do</em> want to talk about?”</p><p>“Yeah, where exactly are we?” the younger woman asked, eager to change the topic, as they both ducked their heads under a low branch.</p><p>“We are on the border of Toussaint.”</p><p>“Why didn’t we just portal to the pellar? Why ride the rest of the way?”</p><p>“Toussaint is a duchy of Nilfgaard. Though it does not hold to the same politics of Nilfgaard, its ties to the country make it risky for us to use too much magic within the realm. Especially something like a portal, which can be tracked. It is far safer for us to ride to our destination, despite the inconvenience.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with Nilfgaard?” Yennefer asked after hearing the tension in the Rectoress’ voice every time she uttered its name.</p><p>“That is a deeply complex question,” Tissaia said with a weary sigh. “In short, one of my students – a member of your class, to be exact – was…assigned to serve their court. She has done well in her time there, and her zeal has strengthened the country.”</p><p>“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Yennefer commented.</p><p>“Mm, and for Nilfgaard, it is not. However, the direction she and the emperor are guiding the country in is…straining the stability of the Continent. Our ties to the Northern Kingdoms make being this far south a risk, even on a good day.”</p><p>“So, not using magic will help us keep a low profile and avoid suspicion?”</p><p>“Indeed. Spies are everywhere, and there is no need for us to cause a ruckus simply because it is easier to use magic.”</p><p>The two women fell into a comfortable silence, as Tissaia guided their horse on a winding, narrow, wooded path. Yennefer relished each splash of warm sun that broke through the trees, as they tried their best to chase away the cold.</p><p>Ephiny’s pace was steady, and the rhythm of her strides began to soothe Yennefer, like a babe being rocked in its mother’s arms. She could feel the tiny whisps of hair that had escaped Tissaia’s updo tickling against her cheek, and Yennefer made no attempt to move away from the little tendrils.  </p><p>The Rectoress’ body was so very warm, even through her thick cloak and the layers of her outfit. It was a pleasing juxtaposition to the cool air rushing over the younger woman’s face. The continual cadence from the horse, gentle sounds of songbirds, and delicate aroma of Tissaia’s perfume all had Yennefer’s eyes feeling heavy. It wasn’t long before her head sagged against her companion’s shoulder, sleep stealing her consciousness.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Without knowing how much time had passed, Yennefer felt herself being gently pulled from her slumber. A sound reached her ears, one that took her several groggy moments to identify. Once she had, though, she made sure to continue feigning sleep, letting her body stay slack against the other woman.</p><p>The sound was a low, somber tune being hummed by the Rectoress. Yennefer didn’t know if she had ever heard the older woman so much as whistle before, but she had a pretty good feeling that Tissaia was only indulging in this moment because she felt that Yennefer would not be privy to it in her sleep. She felt a little bit guilty for faking her slumber to eavesdrop on this rare display, but her curiosity won over that short battle.</p><p>The melody was relatively simple, and it sounded like a folksong to her, yet she didn’t much care to know in the moment, because she was too focused on the lush timbre reverberating in the older woman’s chest. Yennefer had to physically force herself not to gasp when she heard Tissaia start to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbURTWhHawI&amp;ab_channel=AethelwyneFolkVocalist">sing</a> to the melody she had been humming.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Black is the color of my true love’s hair</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her lips are like some roses fair</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s got the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I love the ground whereon she stands</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I love my love, and well she knows</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love the ground whereon she goes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish the day, it soon would come</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When she and I could be as one</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Yennefer felt a lump in her throat. Not only were the lyrics beautiful, but Tissaia sang them with aching emotion and a sadness that only a broken heart could know – or so Yennefer thought that was what the other woman was pouring into her voice.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>For black is the color of my true love’s hair</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her lips are like some roses fair</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s got the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I love the ground whereon she stands</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The words wavered in the air, and the Rectoress picked up her hummed tune again. Yennefer found it harder for her to feign her sleep, and she wanted to wrap herself even tighter around the woman. She wanted Tissaia to feel how heavily her heart hammered under her breast, and she wanted to tell her that this song – her voice – was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. Swallowing the urge down, she listened in as Tissaia took a breath and began singing again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I go to Kaer Trolde, and I mourn and weep</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For satisfied, I ne’er can be</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I write her a letter, just a few short lines</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And suffer death a thousand times</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Tears pricked hotly in her eyes, feeling the melancholy yearning in every word, and Yennefer wondered if she was always this affected by music, or if it was just the rich alto notes of a woman that she could not face her feelings for.</p><p>She continued listening reverently as Tissaia sang the chorus twice more, and then finished off her little performance by humming the closing notes of the song. The younger woman briefly debated on whether or not she should maintain her sleeping façade or give in to her impulses.</p><p>“That was beautiful,” Yennefer muttered after a long beat.</p><p>“Mm, thank you. I had a feeling you weren’t asleep, but little helps to pass the time on a long journey quite like song does.” Tissaia said with a hint of amusement in her voice.</p><p>“Did you…did you come up with that song?” Yennefer asked, feeling yet another blush burning in her cheeks.</p><p>“What? No. It’s a very old folk ballad from Skellige. It was very popular about three hundred years ago or so, and one could not attend a single Skellig wedding without hearing it back then. I am rather fond of the folk songs from that age, especially from that region,” Tissaia explained.</p><p>“Why do you like them so much?” The younger woman was eager to follow the path of this conversation, as it was the first time the Rectoress seemed to be willingly divulging personal information about herself. Yennefer was thirsty for every drop, and she hungrily pursued it.</p><p>“There wasn’t a lot of ornamentation to the songs. They had simple melodies, and the lyrics were so often sorrowful in a beautifully-poetic way. They were raw, emotional, and so full of meaning. Many of them have sadly been forgotten and lost to time, but I still know a few by heart.”</p><p>“You should write them down,” Yennefer said. “That way, they won’t ever be forgotten.”</p><p>“My dear, I have already archived them, and copies of them are in both Skellige and the great library in Oxenfurt. I would never hoard such knowledge and art for myself. Such selfishness is the province of men,” Tissaia spoke bitterly.  </p><p>“Sorry,” Yennefer mumbled. “I didn’t-”</p><p>“Know. Yes, I am aware, and I apologize if my reaction was strong. Living for so long means that you see what endures through time, and what is lost to it. Sadly, culture, language, and art are often condemned to ancient history.”</p><p>“I guess nothing lasts then, huh?” While Yennefer’s comment leant itself to their musings on the fleeting impermanence of man and nature, her words were skewed in a more personal direction. Tissaia responded with an ambiguous noise, but didn’t indulge that line of conversation.</p><p>Yennefer gazed around herself, finally noticing that the forest had given way to open grasslands. Rolling hills peppered the horizon, and she could just make out the many, neat rows of vineyards upon them, accompanied by their manor houses.</p><p>The sky was the clearest blue, and clean, wispy clouds drifted lazily above them. Everything seemed brighter and more colorful where they were, from the warm golds of the fields, to the brilliant emerald grasses. It seemed to be the complete opposite of Aretuza, with its foggy skyline, roiling sea, and unrelenting chill.</p><p>“Are you hungry?” Tissaia asked, breaking the younger woman from her thoughts. “It’s not quite midday, but it would be nice to get out of the saddle for a time. I’m sure Ephiny would be glad to graze a little as well.”</p><p>“Yeah, actually,” Yennefer agreed, suddenly aware of how her bottom was both numb and sore at the same time. “It will feel great to get out of this saddle.” She nervously fidgeted her fingers, knowing that there was no way she was going to be able to dismount with even an ounce of grace.</p><p>Tissaia directed their horse off the path, toward a small grove of trees where they could rest in the shade. Yennefer’s notion that if she climbed off of Ephiny as quickly as possible to salvage what remained of her dignity only ended up with her practically falling out of the saddle and almost dragging the other woman down with her.</p><p>Her graceless antics earned her an amused chuckle from the Rectoress, who, as if deciding to rub it in a little, lithely swung herself off of the horse. Yennefer could see the ghost of a smug smirk on pale lips, and she rolled her eyes. Yet, she herself could not resist laughing at herself as well. After all, how often does one get to see a centuries-old sorceress flail her way out of a saddle?</p><p>Before sending the mare to graze, Tissaia dug through one of the saddlebags, producing a small parcel wrapped in linen, and a wineskin. Yennefer had settled herself under the largest tree, enjoying the shade. The day had warmed considerably since her nap in the morning, and she eagerly pulled her cloak from her shoulders, the Rectoress mirroring her.</p><p>The older woman then sat down beside her and handed her the wine. Tissaia busied herself with unwrapping the parcel, revealing some nut bread, hard cheese, and dried figs. A small, dull knife was tucked in amongst the food, and Tissaia used it to cut off some of the cheese and bread for herself. She then handed the bundle of food to Yennefer, who had perched the wineskin in between them.</p><p>The pair ate in silence, occasionally stealing glances at the other. Both women could feel a tension building in the air between them, but they were each too stubborn to say or do anything about it. It was only when Yennefer was draining the last few drops of wine into her mouth that their taciturn bout was broken.</p><p>“Yennefer, I,” Tissaia started, and there was a hesitance to her voice. “I would like to apologize for my behavior toward you this morning. I was rude to you, and you had done nothing to deserve that treatment.”</p><p>The raven-haired woman looked over at her companion. Splashes of sun seeped through the leaves above, highlighting the way Tissaia’s cheekbones were a bright pink from the wine, and that rich, mahogany tones flowed through her brunette hair. Azure eyes appeared even brighter in the light, peering uncertainly into her own.</p><p>Yennefer was, once again, struck by the openness in the woman’s gaze, and she fought hard to regain control of her hammering heart, feeling like it was thrashing around in her chest. She had to remind herself that she could not fall into the tempting trap that was the Rectoress’ eyes, but oh, the sun brought out such delicate flecks of green in her irises.</p><p>Yennefer awkwardly cleared her throat, mentally slapping herself for her weakness for the Rectoress. Everything was going to change with the pellar, and she had to maintain focus. She had no idea how she was going to do that, but she knew that it would only hurt worse if she didn’t.</p><p>“Thank you. For apologizing, but it’s okay,” Yennefer rasped, wincing at the crack in her voice. “Were you upset because after today, I will go back to hating you?”</p><p>“Why do you think that?” the other woman asked, and those two little lines formed between her brows again.</p><p>Yennefer looked away, unable to bear the weight of Tissaia’s scrutiny. She rubbed her eyes, hoping to get some sort of relief from it. “Because it is why I am upset,” she mumbled miserably.</p><p>“Come again?”</p><p>“That’s why I’m upset!” she snapped, springing up from her spot against the tree, and she walked several paces away, clenching and unclenching her fists. “I don’t think I can do this!” she called over her shoulder.</p><p>The raven-haired woman began an agitated pace, as she often found herself doing of late, until a gentle hand on her elbow halted her mid-step. Her head snapped to the left, catching blue eyes staring at her from under an arched brow.</p><p>“You can, and you will do this, Yennefer.” Tissaia’s tone was firm but not harsh. She did not release the younger woman’s arm. “Can you at least explain to me what you’re so afraid of?”</p><p>“Losing this! You! Us! <em>Me!</em>” Yennefer cried out in frustration, pulling away from the Rectoress’ touch and raking her fingers through her hair. If her little outburst in any way shocked or surprised the older woman, she didn’t show it. Tissaia stood her ground, hands once again clasped at her navel.</p><p>“You need not lose anything you are unwilling to part with. Getting your memories back will not fundamentally change you, Yennefer,” the smaller woman implored.</p><p>Yennefer scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Now you just sound like Triss.”</p><p>“Who happens to be very wise, so I will choose to take that as a compliment.”</p><p>“Aren’t you afraid that I am just going to turn back into the spiteful bitch that I was?” Yennefer asked, her eyes flashing wildly with desperation. She came right up into Tissaia’s personal space, their faces so close they could each feel their breaths mingling.</p><p>“Aren’t you afraid that I will never speak to you the way that I do now? That you will never touch me again? Aren’t you afraid that I will leave, and never return?” Yennefer half-shouted.</p><p>“Yes! I am afraid!” Tissaia relented, the words spilling from her mouth as though she had been choking them back for an eternity.</p><p>The moment hung heavily between them, violet and blue eyes staring with such intensity. Yennefer gulped, tumultuous feelings warring within her, and the wine only made her judgment hazier. She could see regret taking over Tissaia’s features, and, before she was even aware of what she was doing, Yennefer had pulled her into her arms, wanting to soothe away any doubt the other woman felt. Maybe she hoped it might destroy her own doubt.</p><p>Tissaia looked up at Yennefer’s face, lips parted, eyes darker, breath heavier. Reckless thoughts crashed through the younger woman’s mind, and she didn’t care whether the Rectoress could read them or not. Her left hand came up to cup a pale cheek, and she started to dip her head down toward pink lips.</p><p>“Well, well, well lads! Look at what we ‘ave here. A lover’s picnic, I’d say,” came the rough drawl of a man’s voice.</p><p>The two women had been so caught up in the moment that they failed to notice the pack of four, slovenly men approaching. They were all in an equal state of filth, clearly having been traveling the road for quite some time. They were unshaven, their hair greasy and matted, and the women could see rotted, sour teeth in their mouths as they all leered. Two of them carried cudgels, one had a dagger, and the man that had spoken to them had a rusty, nicked sword drawn.</p><p>Tissaia quickly moved to place herself between Yennefer and the scoundrels, holding her left hand behind her, to feel that her charge was safely at her back. Even though every single one of them stood at least a head taller than the Rectoress, the sheer vitriol of her glare more than made up for her diminutive stature. Yennefer swore she could feel the tension coiled within the other woman, and she was almost certain that Tissaia could pounce like a mountain cat if provoked.</p><p>“Our business is none of yours, and I suggest you move on,” Tissaia said with that voice of hers that commanded nothing less than authority and obedience.</p><p>“Aye, but it is our business,” the man with the sword, who must be the group’s leader, said casually. “Ye see, yer a pair o’ fair ladies, and yer a might too vulnerable travelin’ on the road without a man to protect ye!” he laughed sickeningly, smirking at his companions, who all laughed in tandem with him.</p><p>Yennefer was acutely aware of the fact that the men had continuously drawn nearer to them at a slow, unrelenting pace; yet, Tissaia refused to cede even an inch of ground, unwilling to display even an iota of uneasiness. They were close enough that, when a gust of wind blew around them, she caught their gag-inducing stench. Sweat, alcohol, blood, and rot met her nostrils, and she desperately wanted to shrink away from them. The only thing holding her in place – aside from her own fear – was the other woman’s hand firmly pressed against her abdomen.</p><p>“Seein’ as there’s no one here to defend ye, I think us lads will keep ye company, if’n ye catch my drift. Especially that pretty one,” he sneered, eyeing Yennefer with a lecherous, hungry look in his bloodshot eyes. “I do like ‘em tall.” The leader’s companions chuckled, and murmured agreement amongst themselves.</p><p>“I will say this only once more,” Tissaia stated firmly, still holding her ground. “Leave us be or meet your death.”</p><p>“Well now! The little one’s got claws, lads! Oh, we’re gonna have a good time breakin’ ‘er!”</p><p>The leader made a jerky lunge toward Tissaia, attempting to strike her with the pommel of his sword. Yennefer felt the hand that had steadied her vanish, and before she even had a moment to blink, the Rectoress had snaked between each man with shocking speed and fluidity. She had produced a dagger from her boot, drawing precise cuts along each of the bandit’s throats.</p><p>Their shock was as evident as Yennefer’s. All four of them started trying to gasp for air, only finding blood spluttering from their mouths. They clutched at their throats in a fruitless attempt to stimy the flow, but it was mere moments before they had all collapsed to freshly-stained earth, pale and unbreathing.</p><p>Yennefer stood frozen in place, mouth agape at the carnage feet away from her. Bile quickly rose in her throat as the reek of gore hit her nose. She didn’t even have a moment to double over before vomit was spilling out from her lips. Her lunch barely missed her boots, and she coughed as the last of it lurched from her stomach.</p><p>Yennefer could see Tissaia on the opposite side of the massacre, standing rigidly, blood dripping languidly from the blade still clutched in her fingers. Spots of the stuff marred the once-pristine blouse she wore, and the younger woman could see it splattered across Tissaia’s wan face. The Rectoress appeared unfazed by her actions, a hard, yet casual, glint shining in her eyes.</p><p>Yennefer’s queasiness turned to horror as she watched the older woman kneel down and begin to search the bodies of their assailants. “W-what are you doing?” she asked, her voice raspy and weak.</p><p>“I need to make sure that they aren’t Nilfgaardian spies or mercenaries,” Tissaia answered calmly, still rifling through the corpses.</p><p>“That lot? Are you serious? They were shabby, half-starved highwaymen!”</p><p>“Looks can be deceiving, Yennefer. I cannot take the risk.”</p><p>Minutes crept by, and the younger woman wished she could tear her eyes away from the scene before her, but she was unable to. The Rectoress finally stood, satisfied with her search. She looked disapprovingly at the dead men strewn around her.</p><p>“Were they spies,” Yennefer spat with surprising venom.</p><p>“No.” Tissaia sounded almost disappointed.</p><p>“So, you’ve just murdered them for nothing, then.” She accused, glowering at the other woman.</p><p>“For nothing?” Tissaia’s voice dipped to a menacing growl, her mouth drawn in a thin line of fury. “They were bandits. Would you prefer that I had let them rape and murder us? Would that have helped your conscience?” Tissaia mocked ruthlessly.</p><p>“I’m not saying that! I just don’t see why you had to <em>kill</em> them. Couldn’t you have at least scared or bribed them off?”</p><p>“Don’t lecture me on morals,” Tissaia said, once again inches from Yennefer’s face. “You stand here, telling me I should have spared them, so they could do to others what they tried to do to us? <em>You,</em> of all people, tell me I shouldn’t have killed them, when the Yennefer <em>I</em> knew, would not have even offered a warning before ending them!” the older woman practically roared.</p><p>“Yeah, well I’m not her, now am I! So, stop acting like I am!” Yennefer cried out, the volume of her voice matching Tissaia’s. She tried not to let her heart break at hearing the other woman talk about her in the past tense.</p><p>“You’re right,” Tissaia huffed. “You aren’t her, and I was a fool for forgetting that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tissaia sings! Yennefer is a hot mess! If the song link didn't work, here is the URL https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbURTWhHawI&amp;ab_channel=AethelwyneFolkVocalist </p><p>Please let me know what you guys think, or tell me things you'd like to see, or can imagine happening! Comments and kudos help a lot with me keeping up my writing mojo. Thanks again for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The tension rises</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know it's been so long since I have updated. The depression and writer's block were very real for me over the past couple of months. I've finally found a break in that cycle, and I am very pleased to give y'all this chapter!</p><p>As always, I would like to offer a huge shoutout to my wife, whose patience and encouragement meant that I never gave up on this project. She kept my vision for the work grounded, and always gave it a much-needed critical eye making me write better!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Several hours had passed since the incident with the bandits, and Yennefer’s mind was wheeling like a fly darting erratically around a room. Waves of nausea churned in her belly, and her throat stung from when she vomited. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe in the afternoon heat, with no space between her and Tissaia’s bodies. The breeze from Ephiny’s steady trot did little to cool the too-warm air rushing around them, and she felt a heavy bead of sweat slide down the curve of her spine.  </p><p>Yennefer breathed heavily through her nose, trying to regain her composure. Yet, every time she closed her eyes, she could see nothing except a relentless loop of the Rectoress deftly moving between the bandits. Spurts of crimson dashing through the air swam through her mind, followed by four pairs of blank, unseeing eyes falling to the bloodstained earth.</p><p>Still trapped in the memory, a fresh bout of queasiness seethed in her belly like an undulating mass of insects. Yennefer could not stop herself from dwelling upon how unaffected the brunette had seemed after murdering four men. She could vaguely recall the older woman whispering a few words of Elder, erasing the sticky viscera splattered across her face and body.</p><p>Did Tissaia feel any such conflict about her judgements, hidden beneath her cold exterior or, had she lived so many centuries, that she had long since reconciled her guilt with the necessity of her actions? If she was feeling conflicted about it, Yennefer could not tell in the slightest. The woman seemed to be the picture of placidity, appearing relaxed and indifferent.</p><p>Yennefer, on the other hand, was anything but. Her breaths became shallow, and her heart hammered heavily in her chest. She felt like there was cotton in her ears, and sweat dribbled down her temples to collect under her clenched jaw. Her clammy hands were balled up so tightly that she could feel her arms trembling, and Yennefer wished that she could make the wretched feelings shredding her mind and stomach vanish. Inky spots danced merrily along the edges of her vision, like faeries twirling through the air to an unheard melody.</p><p>“Yennefer!”</p><p>She felt a sudden swoop in her belly, and she became distantly aware of hands pulling her from the saddle, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that one of the only people who had helped anchor her throughout her amnesia had slaughtered men who deserved nothing more than a dungeon cell. Her brain felt foggy, and she could not figure out why her knees were stinging.</p><p>“Yennefer! Look at me!” The voice speaking to her was muddled. Far away sounding. “Yenna, breathe for me. Deep breaths, you’re panicking.”</p><p>The voice was strong but soothing, and she wanted to listen to it. Her vision was almost completely obscured, and sweat seemed to run along every inch of her skin. Mustering what little control she had over her body, Yennefer swallowed, her tongue thick in her arid mouth. She struggled to regulate her breathing, the mucus in her throat catching and causing her to cough wetly.</p><p>She was clutching desperately to the woman in front of her, still unable to clear her vision as her head swam with a smothering fog. She could hear Tissaia cooing soft words of encouragement to her, and Yennefer latched onto them, feeling them starting to ground her. With tremendous effort, she began to regain control of her breath, heaving in shaky gulps of air. Slowly but surely, her heart started to curb its frantic beat, and her surroundings gradually came back into focus.</p><p>“Good girl. That’s it, just breathe,” the older woman said softly.</p><p>After several long breaths, Yennefer lifted her gaze to her companion. Blue eyes were staring worriedly into her own. Tissaia was stroking damp hair from her sticky face, and Yennefer’s attention was drawn to the delicate hand against her cheek, and something snapped deep in her gut. It was the hand that had, all too recently, gripped a dagger with no amount of uncertainty. It was the hand that had cut through flesh, tendon, and vein without hesitation. It was the hand that did not shake after silencing four separate heartbeats. It was the hand that should have been drenched in blood.</p><p>“Don’t touch me!” Yennefer yelped as she sprung up from where she had apparently collapsed on the ground. That would explain why her knees hurt. Ice-cold panic flooded through her anew, and she looked like a wild animal suddenly caught staring down the hunter’s drawn arrow.</p><p>“You <em>killed</em> them!” the younger woman angrily shrieked, and she felt heat rise up her throat and the bottom of her cheeks as frustration began to replace her distress.</p><p>“I did,” Tissaia responded plainly as her posture transformed into its accustomed reserved state.</p><p>“It’s like you don’t even regret it! As if you feel nothing from it” she wailed.</p><p>“I will not stand here and justify my decision to protect us,” Tissaia snapped, clenching her jaw in a raw display of frustration. “To protect <em>you</em>,” the older woman finished more quietly after a beat. “I would make that very same choice a thousand times over if it meant not a single one of those foul monsters got a chance to touch even a hair on your head.”</p><p>The conviction with which Tissaia spoke those words thundered straight through to Yennefer’s very bones, blue eyes fiercely flashing with complete sincerity. The relentless hum of insects filled the growing silence between them as the dark-haired woman stared, dumbfounded, trying to figure out how she should respond. Tissaia took the initiative, stepping forward as her bearing softened.</p><p>“I did not kill them over petty scruples, nor did I kill them for any sort of enjoyment. You could not hear what they were thinking, but I could,” the Rectoress said with a dark look behind her eyes. “You may call them bandits, or ruffians, or any term that suits you, but it will not change the fact that they were not men. Not anymore. They gave up the right to be called that after they started…” Tissaia caught herself, and she took a deep breath to regain her control. “I might have let them live, and simply taught them a lesson they would never forget for their next ten lifetimes. That was until…” She hesitated.</p><p>“Until what?” Yennefer pressed. She noted the tightness around the corners of Tissaia’s eyes and the two little lines that had formed between her brows.</p><p>“Until I heard what they were thinking about <em>you</em>, Yennefer. I have lived too many lifetimes and heard almost every wretched thing that could ever be thought of me. None of it affects me anymore. Apparently, hearing such thoughts about you is an entirely different story,” she finished somewhat evasively.</p><p>The younger woman frowned, scrutinizing Tissaia through bleary eyes. “Why? Have you never heard such thoughts about me before?”</p><p>“I have, but those other times were different. If I was hearing those thoughts, so too could you. You could protect yourself then, but now you’re so-”</p><p>“Weak?” Yennefer’s temper flared. “I’m not some helpless invalid, Tissaia! I may not have all the fancy powers that you and Triss do, but I can damn well-”</p><p>“Yennefer,” Tissaia bit out sharply, silencing her. “Do not think me so shallow as to believe that you are weak without Chaos! Strength is not born from magic, and I do not see you as an invalid without it. I was trying to tell you that you’re uncertain of your place in the world right now. That uncertainty makes you more likely to hesitate or freeze.” The brunette’s expression softened, and she cautiously closed a little more of the space between them.</p><p>“It is difficult,” she continued. “You’re more innocent now than you were the day I met you. Your memory has been scrubbed clean of every beastly thing you have seen and suffered, and I forget that each of these moments are entirely new to you now.”</p><p>“I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need you thinking of me as some sort of child,” Yennefer huffed out.</p><p>“Indeed, some things never change.” A small smile twitched at the corner of Tissaia’s mouth.</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“Nothing. How are you feeling? Well enough to ride again? We only have about two more hours before we reach the pellar.”</p><p>Yennefer knew that Tissaia was intentionally changing the subject, but if she was being honest with herself, she was glad of it. They seemed incapable of interacting without some sort of emotional whiplash occurring, and she felt exhausted as it was from the panic attack. Knowing how close they were to their destination redirected her focus away from what was bothering her.</p><p>Tissaia seemed to take Yennefer’s pause as proof that she was not yet ready to ride. She fetched the water skin from where it hung off of Ephiny’s saddle, and she offered it to Yennefer. The younger woman was instantly grateful, as she had not realized how parched her mouth had become. She drank deeply of the water and thanked the Rectoress.</p><p> Once Tissaia was convinced that they could ride again, she nimbly mounted the horse, holding her hand out to help Yennefer up. Seating herself in the saddle was becoming easier for Yennefer, and she no longer hesitated to wrap her arms around the other woman’s middle. She could not tell if their talk had really helped her feel any less conflicted about earlier, but her disquiet had lost some of its edge. Perhaps it had helped after all. Yennefer resigned herself to putting those concerns away for another day, focusing on their goal instead.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The afternoon haze had faded to the first touches of dusk, the shadows cast long and dark across the ground. The open fields and rolling hills of distant vineyards had given way to a thin wood, the trees further swallowing the waning sunlight. Crickets sounded near and far, ensuring that things never truly felt too quiet between the two women.</p><p>Tissaia guided Ephiny along a barely-there, wending path, allowing the mare a leisurely pace after the long day’s ride. Yennefer could tell that they were drawing near to their destination; she could feel the growing tension in the Rectoress’ riding posture. She expected to be apprehensive as well; instead Yennefer felt something more akin to relief taking root in her mind.  </p><p>It was not lost on her that they would be back to square one if this venture failed, but the thought of gaining even a fragment of an answer was enough to sway her toward hope. She was much too exhausted to bother playing host to her fears and, she concentrated on conserving what little energy she had left. Whatever was to happen with the pellar, it was not bound to be easy or enjoyable. At least, that is what Yennefer expected after all the prior attempts to heal her memory and restore her Chaos.</p><p>Just as it grew dark enough that she needed to start straining her eyes, they rode into a small clearing, with a hut at the far end coming into view. The structure was simple, without being shabby or off-putting. The roof was low, covered in moss, resting upon walls whose windows had no glass. Candlelight glowed invitingly from within, and the smell of woodsmoke drifted up from the gap in the shingles that served as a chimney.</p><p>A tidy garden grew out front, and Yennefer could see a little coop off to the side, no doubt housing dozing chickens who had likely been happily scratching the earth for insects earlier that day. A sturdy-looking pony was lazily grazing in the clearing, entirely unperturbed by their arrival.</p><p>Wordlessly, Tissaia dismounted their horse, helping Yennefer down from the saddle as well. Once they got closer to the structure, Yennefer could see garlands of herbs, bundles of dried flowers, and braids of garlic adorning the empty doorframe and the decaying eaves. Squinting through the vacant windows, she could make out what looked like rabbits and fowl dangling from the roof’s support beams. The pellar seemed to live a humble life in seclusion, and on a tranquil evening like this, Yennefer could see the appeal of such an existence.</p><p>There came a clattering from within the hut, and a silhouette filled the doorway. A moment of fear dropped in the younger woman’s belly, and she stopped cold in her tracks. Tissaia looked back at her, confused, and Yennefer could see the brunette’s jaw was clenched tight.</p><p>Before either woman could say anything, the figure ambled toward them, carrying a candle he had picked up from just inside the door. The pellar came into view as he drew nearer. He wore a gentle smile on his wizened face, but something behind his rheumy eyes said that he knew too much. The knotted hand holding the candle shook visibly, revealing his frailty. Layers upon layers of shawls and wraps were piled up underneath a yellowed sheepskin draped over his hunched shoulders, and something about the crooked angle of them felt unsettlingly familiar to Yennefer. Beads, crystals, amulets, and what appeared to be shriveled animal parts hung around his neck or were roughly-stitched onto his many garments, which meant that his shuffling was accompanied by a sound not unlike a windchime.</p><p>“Ah, just as expected,” he said in a cracked voice, his greeting revealing a mouth missing most of its teeth. “Please, come into my home.” He gestured for them to follow, turning back toward the little house without waiting for an answer.</p><p>Tissaia gave Yennefer a tiny nod of encouragement, and she too turned to follow the elderly man. Taking a short breath, the dark-haired woman was finally able to unstick her feet, which felt rooted to the ground, being the last to enter the building.</p><p>It was warm inside, all one room with minimal furnishings and a packed dirt floor. A soup cauldron was suspended over the fire, and whatever was bubbling away in it smelled of cooking game, fennel, and something else Yennefer’s nose could not identify. The old man did seem to have anticipated their arrival, as three cups were already set on the table, but only two bowls accompanied them. Yennefer frowned at that, wondering if he had already eaten, and was simply being a good host by feeding them as well.</p><p>The pellar was clumsily working on uncorking a bottle of ale, but Tissaia pulled it from his stiff fingers, and opened it for him. She poured out a measure of dark, frothy liquid into each cup, picking up two of them and pressing one into Yennefer’s hands. Yennefer took a reluctant sip, finding herself pleasantly surprised at the spicy, earthy flavor of the ale. A warm feeling spread down her throat and gathered in her stomach.</p><p>“Come here, girl,” the pellar said with an amiable smile, gesturing for her. “My eyes aren’t so good, but I need to take a look at you.”</p><p>Yennefer looked uncertainly to Tissaia, who nodded again to her. She stepped forward across the dirt floor and stopped a little too close for comfort in front of their host. He was squinting at her through his hazy eyes, and she could hear a rattle in his chest with every breath he wheezed out. She could feel Tissaia watching them like a hawk, her ale untouched in her hand.</p><p>“Mm,” he mused, stopping to peer into Yennefer’s eyes, but it felt more like he was staring <em>through</em> them. “Raven hair and violet eyes…you’re the woman lost to Destiny’s ties. You are no longer Yennefer of Vengerberg. No, no, not for some time. You seek answers, and I am to be the key that opens the lock of your mind!” he said delightedly, tapping the young woman’s temple with a crooked finger, but his eyes slid over to the Rectoress.</p><p>“And Lady de Vries,” he exclaimed, doing his best to bow. “Controlled as ever, yet-”</p><p>Tissaia cut him off with an irritated swat of her free hand. “Spare me your vague prophesizing, old man. I’ve no need of them.” Her words were clipped and dismissive, leaving no room for objection.</p><p>“Very well,” he ceded with another labored wheeze. “There’s stew for you to eat, if you wish to recover your strength.” He spoke only to Tissaia, implying that Yennefer was not allowed to partake in the meal.</p><p>“What about me? I don’t get to eat?” she inquired, internally wincing at how childish she sounded.</p><p>He turned to look back at Yennefer. “You’ll be needing an empty stomach for what’s to come.” His tone was far from unpleasant, but the words were ominous enough.</p><p>“I can make a mixture of potent flowers, soaked in the milk of a goat, and then doused in the blood sacrifice an animal,” he explained, shuffling about the hut, plucking items hanging from the walls and hiding in baskets.</p><p>“And, of course, I will need a blood sacrifice from you too, girl. You will drink this mixture,” he continued over his bustling. “While you drink, herbs shall be set ablaze for you to inhale, and I shall recite an incantation. Yes, girl, I see your face. No one said you would be fed sweet cakes and sung lullabies. You!” He barked at Tissaia with surprising authority. “Go to the coop and fetch me the fattest hen.”</p><p>With a slight look of annoyance, the brunette acquiesced and left. The pellar set everything he had gathered down on the scrubbed surface of the rickety table, pulling one of the two bowls toward him; the one that wasn’t for Tissaia’s stew.</p><p>His trembling hands plucked dried flowerheads from disintegrating, papery stems, crumbling them into the dish. He hummed a reedy tune to himself, ignoring Yennefer entirely. It unsettled her, and she did not know what to do with herself. She fidgeted nervously with her hands, apprehensively watching him drop a dollop of alchemy paste into the bowl.</p><p>The Rectoress reentered the hut with the flapping of wings and choked squawks of a disgruntled chicken. If Yennefer were not so tense and jittery, she would have found the sight comical. The uptight sorceress, nary a hair out of place, holding a wriggling, irritated hen, her nose and brow wrinkled in disgust.</p><p>A small smile managed to tug at the younger woman’s mouth, until Tissaia unceremoniously thrust the bird into her arms, skirting around her to approach the old man. Yennefer wasn’t sure how to hold a chicken, but she managed to awkwardly squash the bird into reluctant stillness against her chest.</p><p>Tissaia had gone to the pellar, because he was struggling to lift a clay jug off the table. The brunette picked it up for him, and poured a thick, white liquid into the bowl; the goat’s milk. The pair of them turned to look at Yennefer, who realized that they were waiting for her to hand them the hen. She clumsily handed it over, nearly dropping it as it started to struggle again, seeming distressed. She felt bad for it, as it seemed to know something was wrong, and it was desperately trying to escape its fate.</p><p>The old man grabbed the bird and snapped its neck with surprising ease. He produced a small, bone-handled knife from under his shawls, and cut the bird carcass open, allowing the warm blood to spill into the bowl. Yennefer felt sick at the sight.</p><p>As if knowing her feelings, the pellar looked at her with a wrinkled smile. “I told you you would want an empty stomach. Now come here,” he said, wiping the blade off on a piece of linen. “It’s time for your blood, girl.”</p><p>“Wait,” Tissaia said, speaking for the first time since they had arrived. “Allow me a moment with her. In private.”</p><p>“Of course, Lady Sorceress,” he grinned. “I’ll be outside plucking the bird.”</p><p>“Are you okay,” the brunette asked with surprising gentleness, once the old man had left their presence.</p><p>“I’m…not sure. I think I’m more freaked out about having to drink that stuff than I am about anything else right now,” she answered with a weak smile.</p><p>“Listen,” Tissaia said, closing the space between them and catching Yennefer’s clammy hands in her own. “This is still your choice. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but,” she said cutting Yennefer’s response off. “I know that you <em>can</em> do this. I haven’t a single doubt about your ability to make it through this moment.”</p><p>Yennefer swallowed thickly, tears burning at her eyes. No words came to her. The soft touch of Tissaia’s hands still made her stomach contort in revulsion, but she felt a swirling tug of yearning at what the brunette had said to her. It was a moment of tenderness, fleeting and puzzling, and Yennefer could not tell what was more real about the other woman: the scant few times Tissaia revealed a warm, amative facet of her heart in stolen moments, or the detached ruthlessness she exhibited without remorse?</p><p>What terrified her even more was the thought that it might not be one or the other. It might be that both of those sides of the brunette were equally her. What scared her the most, though, was the notion that she might also be just the same. What if she was a being capable of loving only in secluded whispers and longing stares, but unabashedly brutal when the world tried to push her down?</p><p>“Lady de Vries tries hard not to hear the conflict in your heart, girl,” the pellar said from the doorway.</p><p>Both women startled at the interruption, and Tissaia wasted no time pulling away from Yennefer, trying to look as though nothing had happened. Did something even happen? Was it wrong if it did? The younger woman tried to divest herself of those thoughts, and she did what she could to fight off the feelings of hurt from Tissaia’s quick retreat.  It was clear to her that whatever the other woman did or did not feel, she was unwilling to share it with Yennefer anyway. Despite having no claim to Tissaia’s thoughts or feelings, being shut out constantly annoyed her, nonetheless.</p><p>“I could not afford you more time or privacy, I am afraid. The solution will soon expire. We must add your blood and begin the ritual.”</p><p>The pellar stood at the table by the bowl with the almost complete concoction - a sickly brown-ish pink from the blood swirled with the milk - sitting in it. Steeling herself, Yennefer approached him as he once again pulled out the little knife he used to cut open the hen. She gulped nervously, seeing how his gnarled hand shook. Unsure of what exactly to do, she held up her left palm for him, assuming he would cut it open, freeing her life fluids.</p><p>“Everyone thinks they’ve got to slice open their hands for blood offerings,” the pellar snorted derisively. He grabbed Yennefer’s wrist and tugged until her forearm hovered over the bowl. Using the point of the blade, he punctured into her arm, his hand becoming surprisingly steady. It pinched and burned, and Yennefer sucked in a sharp breath at the pain. Crimson sprang forth from the little hole in her flesh, dribbling into the mixture, darkening it. It took less than thirty seconds before the old man seemed satisfied with the amount of blood added to the amalgam, after which he tightly wrapped a clean linen bandage around Yennefer’s arm.</p><p>“Go, kneel by the fire while I blend it all properly,” the pellar said without meeting Yennefer’s eyes. “Sorceress, would you be so kind as to administer the herbs to the girl whilst I speak the incantation? It would be a great help to me.”</p><p>Tissaia grabbed the bundle of dried plants off of the table and kneeled down next to Yennefer by the fire. The younger woman pictured, for a moment, the Rectoress kneeling on the dirt floor in the swaths of silk and petticoats from one of her elaborate gowns, having to make sure none of the fabric came to close to the hearth. She could see now that the leather trousers were a practical choice, not just for riding.</p><p>She felt Tissaia rest a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. When she looked over and met the woman’s sapphire eyes, she was met with the sight of staunch determination. She recalled the early attempts Triss had made to unlock her memory, how Tissaia refused to leave her side. She remembered the brunette’s constant presence, holding her hand firmly. She remembered feeling warm and comforted at the touch. She remembered feeling <em>safe</em>.</p><p>“Don’t let go,” Yennefer whispered.</p><p>“Never,” Tissaia promised.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This work now has cover art by the incredible xxtorchxx (If anyone knows how to actually set it as a cover work for the story, please tell me the secrets!) To see the image, it's on Chapter 1! Let them know on tumblr just how talented they are!</p><p>This was going to be longer, but I felt like I found a good cut off point, and it means I know what I am going to do for the next update :] Thank you guys so much for sticking with this and being patient with me! It means a lot to me, and all of your comments are lovely motivators. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially the pellar! Let me know what you guys liked, and let me know what you're looking forward to! Thank you so much for reading! ❤</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I don't have any set update schedule, but I will try to keep it under a month. You can find me on Tumblr at writers-dilemma</p><p>I am serious about getting suggestions/theories from you! If it's something I really wanna use, I can tag you as a co-creator, if you like! Or, at the very least, you will get your very own shout-out!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>